Unbroken Awareness
My life is now a floating shell
I am a vessel on that river.
The storm, the ship, the sea,
Whose shores we lost in crossing.
I can see the milky distances—
In your eyes, but you cannot see me.
A thin melon slice of first moon,
Melting into songs and slivers of ice.
You could feel small creatures dying.
Cowering humans in their burrows.
Fighting for lives other than theirs.
Aware they could not escape.
Each of us came into being
Knowing who we are,
What we are supposed to do
But why do you try to hold back—
The sands, falling in the hourglass?
I am now unconscious.
In a way—, but mute.
A little pearl of awareness,
But this pearl is not me.
Knowing yet unable.
I am now timeless!
All times and in all futures
I am a universe of windows
I cannot be touched again
I am in an endless dream
But I can see you outlined
Looking beyond what you know
One day the seeds would return
And life would continue.
Copyright 2007 by Tendai R. Mwanaka
Critique by Jendi Reiter
This month's critique poem comes to us from Zimbabwean poet Tendai R. Mwanaka. Its themes of ego-less awareness and awakening wisdom reminded me of Buddhist beliefs about the interconnectedness of all life, transcending boundaries of self and other, human and animal, or the living and the dead. The speaker's lyrical insights are comforting even when mysterious, because of their tone of tranquility and faith that eventually the listener will reach full understanding. The poem itself is a "pearl of awareness", polished and pure.
In the opening lines, the narrator seems to be reporting back from the other side of death. "My life is now a floating shell/I am a vessel on that river." Transformed by emptying, simplified, the speaker is content to be borne along by larger forces. The identity that once bounded his entire experience is seen from outside as merely one object in a wider landscape. It was a container for an awareness that now soars above it. (I regret having to assign a gender to the speaker when the whole point of the poem is to transcend such identity markers, but the limitations of English prose grammar require this.)
Contrast this open vista to the confined perspective of "Cowering humans in their burrows." Yet the speaker picks up on and encourages the listener's first stirrings of insight that other selves exist: "You could feel small creatures dying" and perhaps also the line "Fighting for lives other than theirs". This latter phrase could mean several things in the context of this poem. Are the human-creatures fighting to protect someone beyond their own selfish interests—the beginning of the empathy that leads to "unbroken awareness"? Or are they misunderstanding what is "theirs", clinging to an identity that they mistake for the fullness of life? As the speaker later says of himself, "A little pearl of awareness,/But this pearl is not me."
Mwanaka uses sound effectively to enhance the meditative mood of the poem. Listen to the S sounds in the first stanza, which replicate the feeling of identity dissolving: "The storm, the ship, the sea,/Whose shores we lost in crossing." They are joined by the hum of M sounds in the dreamy, beautiful images of the next stanza: "A thin melon slice of first moon,/Melting into songs and slivers of ice." Whiteness pervades the poem: pearls, milky distances, ice, moonlight. Because of this tactile richness, the poem never feels too abstract even though it puts across complex philosophical ideas.
The kernel of the poem, which reads like a miniature poem in itself, is the aphorism that is the fourth stanza:
Each of us came into being
Knowing who we are,
What we are supposed to do
But why do you try to hold back—
The sands, falling in the hourglass?
There are two ways of thinking about the significance of an individual life. One is the futile path of denying and resisting change and death, for fear that the self's evanescence makes life meaningless. The other is to recognize that change and death do not defeat the overall pattern of which each life is a unique part.
The speaker would like to communicate this comforting notion to those left on the other side, but there are limits on their ability to hear him. From their side of the veil, he appears "mute", "knowing yet unable." The next stanza reassures us that his condition is actually one of joy: "I am now timeless!/All times and in all futures/I am a universe of windows". Although we cannot fully experience this connection now ("I cannot be touched again"), he has faith that we will come to enlightenment someday, too ("I can see you outlined/Looking beyond what you know").
"Unbroken Awareness" stood out among critique submissions for its assured pacing, luminous imagery and wise insights. Clear without over-explaining, it is a good example of poetry that works as both spiritual message and enjoyable lyric.
Where could a poem like "Unbroken Awareness" be submitted? The following contests may be of interest:
National Poetry Competition
Postmark Deadline: October 31
Prestigious, competitive awards for poets aged 18+ from a leading UK-based poetry organization; top prize 5,000 pounds; online entries accepted
The Plough Prize
Entries must be received by March 31
Contest to raise funds for UK arts organization offers two prizes of 1,000 pounds for unpublished poems; 2007 judge is UK poet laureate Andrew Motion; enter by mail or online
Soul-Making Literary Competition
Postmark Deadline: November 30
Prizes of $100 for prizes for poetry, stories, prose poems, personal essays, humor, and literature for young adults; previously published works accepted
This poem and critique appeared in the October 2007 issue of Winning Writers Newsletter (subscribe free).
Categories: Poetry Critiques
