"It is Solstice, the longest night, the veil of the year worn thin. It is the night of the universal goddess in her solitary labor; the birth of eternal return, time revolving forward and back."
~ Wintering: A Novel of Sylvia Plath, by Kate Moses (p. 213)
Plath wrote the poem, Wintering, in October 1962, four months and 2 days before committing suicide. She didn't make it to the bees in spring.
Did she answer the question Moses assumes she asked?
"How does one know when something's done, when the cycle is complete-"
I want to say there are iterations, cycles upon cycles, spiraling. Tonight, I cracked under the "pressure" of too much ambiguity (as I have before). :-(
Or maybe (because?) this time (?) "its done"...
The poem seems way too close to home...even the reference to Meissen, which reminds me of "the white bowl".
Leave a comment