Marilyn Glover Debuts Jungian Poetry Chapbook/ Shadow's Reprieve
![]() |
| Image: Created by Marilyn Glover with Canva |
Welcome to the 12th installment of my 15-week poetry journey through my debut chapbook, Shadow's Reprieve. This morning, I aired episode 12 on Substack, reading Whole Circle, a self-archetype-themed poem. Per usual, Substack hosts the audio, and here on my website, I go behind the scenes to reveal the verse's meaning.
Let's begin with the poem.
I watched the final drops of rain plop into a pond.
One. Two. Three.
The third held me.
Hushed water spoke.
Rippling,
I stood on the perimeter.
Soaked shoes. Soaked socks. Wringing my shirt.
Might I step into the water.
Immerse myself,
Why not, I thought–I’m already wet.
Subsurface,
What type of ripples might I create
If I explore beyond top-layer.
Head-dunk; Mind’s eye plunk.
I step in,
recalling the rain
only up to my trunk–
half a splash,
not too many waves.
Partially certain, a little more brave,
feeling close, not complete,
Me, Myself, and I,
look at pond’s perimeter,
noting my muddy footprints.
Soil-etched steps.
Earth tremors,
orbit soul’s sound return.
Back to square one.
It’s raining again.
Baseline return; pond’s edge.
I count the raindrops,
one. two. three.
Yellow, bronze, and amber leaves falling into the water, raindrops splashing, little ripples spreading across the pond; it felt like a calling: to immerse myself in my inner being.
It's a funny thing how much the water called to me, even though I am not a deep-water gal. Swimming for me has always equaled a shallow-end preference. Anything else meant swimming to save my life. Despite my lack of aquatic skill, depth and what lies beneath has always intrigued me.
Pondside ruminations: who am I really beneath the surface? Might I one day finally face my fear of submersion; will I relax, lighten my body, breathe, willfully make splashes, knowing that the perimeter land waits for my soul's return?
So many deep-thinking moments; looking back to look forward with clearer eyes. "Pondering" became much more than a metaphor; it was waterside waves from another version of me—the one already embracing her authentic SELF.
Whole Circle invites the reader to step into the rain, observe the raindrops falling into a pond, then step in, immerse oneself in uncertain depths, and surface, not creating half splashes, but ripples that meet, greet, and embrace their integrated self, waiting somewhere on soil's return.
Comments
Post a Comment