Dreams
royal road to the mind
via regia
morning traffic moves out of the unconscious
toward the ego’s city
Face the other way
into the dark.
To what mythological region,
what gods, do dreams belong,
emerging from an archetypal place
with distinct geography
keep a sense of the underworld
looking backwards from logos to mythos
against the historical stream
Reversion, resemblance,
connects events to images,
and their myths.
daylight consciousness begins in the night,
bears its shadows.
allowing sudden shafts of insight.
A bridge between the ordinary and
the mythic.
digging ever deeper
a bridge downward
and inward
reflecting the passionate importance of
the individual soul
Reclamation
opus contra naturam.
by turning inward,
into our cauldron of seething excitement,
raging repression,
instinctual cathexes seeking discharge
also wholeness
touchstones for an entire life
Visibilities
are never enough for the soul
why is the invisible so strong
penetrating soul
a mysterium
non-spatial
blocked, censored, forbidden, obscured,
watching over our inmost thoughts.
A dark realm, contiguous with life,
touching it at all points and
just below it, a shadow doppelganger
gives life its depth
Telos,
soul fulfillment,
dream housing.
powerful personages govern our darkness,
archetypal clusters
in the private cave of our souls
cook life events,
emotional substances,
in soul making
deliteralizing,
in the in-between
Imaginal ego is built
by voiding its old ground,
dream-ego, waking-ego
each other’s shadow.
Convergence,
subtle play between kinds of soul
life-soul and image-soul,
always churning and fermenting
without forethought of product
Complexes,
Gnomes of the night,
underworld smiths
labyrinth makers
cannot cease from shaping.
I created this poem by pulling phrases from the first 121 pages of The Dream and the Underworld by James Hillman.. I wouldn’t say I recommend the book. It’s hard to understand and rejects dreamwork for the most part. I’ll continue to the end of the book and post again if I feel differently. I like this poem much better than the book. I think it’s like looking to the side of a star and only then perceiving it, distilling some of the flavor. In my daughter’s words, it becomes evocative.
Instagram pics:
Marie Judson 