The speaker talks directly to a pool, telling it to be a soft doorway for the dawn and to let night lean against it. Being held in an earthen bowl or struck by cold winds is not real confinement, he suggests, just a pause in an endless fantasy. If the pool can imagine itself as a dream born from another dream, it can build a golden stairway and slip free. The mood is dreamy and quietly rebellious. There is warmth in the speaker’s voice, as if he is giving tender, almost magical advice to something alive. He also wants the pool to laugh at human arrogance, splashing ripples at men who handle it like masters. The ending turns stranger, with time imagined as a phantom dagger that movement kills. The overall feeling is hushed, surreal, and gently defiant.
Advice to a Pool — Summary
Be a liquid threshold for the dawn And let night touch you with his back. The earth-bowl prisoning you, and cold night winds
Are only pause and rhythm Within an endless fantasy, But you, like they, can be A dream from the loins of a dream, And build a golden stairway of escape.
O coolly unperturbed pool, Slap your ripples in laughter at men, Who splash you with their lordly hands. Time is but a phantom dagger That motion lifts to slay itself.