{"id":43505,"date":"2025-12-16T06:57:42","date_gmt":"2025-12-15T17:57:42","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/?p=43505"},"modified":"2025-12-16T06:57:42","modified_gmt":"2025-12-15T17:57:42","slug":"one-day-from-the-ithaca-conversations-sequence","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/2025\/12\/16\/one-day-from-the-ithaca-conversations-sequence\/","title":{"rendered":"\u201cOne Day\u201d — from the Ithaca Conversations Sequence"},"content":{"rendered":"

One Day<\/strong><\/p>\n

He sits in the wide door to his father\u2019s house,
\nplaying with toys,
\ncrudely painted soldiers with gilded helms,
\ngleaming in the sun.<\/p>\n

His nurse tells him he is a prince,
\nwill be a king some day, and a warrior;
\nhis mother stoops, whispers,
\ntells him of his father who is king,
\nlong lost, long sought,
\nlonged for \u2026<\/p>\n

One day, she murmurs,
\nlips soft against his sun-warmed hair,
\none day\u2014a world full of longing,
\nechoes of an endless sea,
\nall encompassing.<\/p>\n

After, he will always see her thus:
\nstanding in the empty door
\nwith her eyes turned outward,
\nhear the murmur reflected
\nin every lineament\u2014
\none day.<\/p>\n

It will cling to his shadow like the sea,
\npace at his heels down every road
\nof the dream long held to, pursued
\nthrough the length of years
\nand breathed into his heart
\nwith a brightness of sun motes, dancing
\nin that long ago doorway\u2014
\none day:<\/p>\n

One day.
\n.<\/span>
\n(c) Helen Lowe<\/p>\n

Published in International Literary Quarterly<\/strong> 14, February 2011<\/p>\n

\u2014<\/p>\n

\"\"

Photo credit: Malcolm Timperley<\/p><\/div>\n

One Day<\/em> is a poem from my Ithaca Conversations<\/strong> sequence, a slant-wise (to paraphrase Emily Dickinson) look at characters and events from Homer\u2019s The Odyssey<\/em><\/strong>. The \u201cvoice\u201d in this particular poem is that of Telemachus, Odyssues and Penelope\u2019s son.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

I am reposting it today because am busy, busy, busy with revising the penultimate section of the WALL series finale. Although an oldie now, tis still a goodie, so enjoy. \ud83d\ude00<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

One Day He sits in the wide door to his father\u2019s house, playing with toys, crudely painted soldiers with gilded helms, gleaming in the sun. His nurse tells him he is a prince, will be a king some day, and a warrior; his mother stoops, whispers, tells him of his father who is king, long […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[6],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-43505","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/43505","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=43505"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/43505\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":43506,"href":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/43505\/revisions\/43506"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=43505"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=43505"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=43505"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}