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Analysis of Morning Song, by Sylvia Plath, From "Ariel", 1966

Sylvia Plath creates a full scene with her piece, "Morning Song". She uses each word to draw a picture of her daily activities. Metaphorically a masterpiece, she draws the reader's attention in each line. It is a beautiful and tender work that all Mothers can read and relate.

Many of Plath's references must be pondered in order to savor the subtle meanings given. Below, I will give my interpretation to this work though without the justice it deserves. This is one of the few "Everyday" pieces Plath created during her life and certainly one of the more affectionate.

MORNING SONG
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Love set you going like a fat gold watch.
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Love literally is meant in this line. A reference to the act of love. The watchthe heartbeat of the infant. This line should be looked at as it was written. No magic or mirrors. She digs deep and finds the most basic meanings, puts them in action.
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The midwife slapped your footsoles, and your bald cry
Took its place among the elements
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Again, Plath uses the obvious beautifully. This is the arrival of her child into this world. The birth of her baby.
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Our voices echo, magnifying your arrival. New statue
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What is the reaction of the birth of a child? People "Ohhh" and "Ahhh" at the infant. The hospital rooms tend to hold sound, echoing. A "New Statue" would seem a reference to something people would look at, study.
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In a drafty museum, your nakedness
Shadows our safety. We stand round blankly as walls.
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Why a museum? What commonality does a museum and a hospital share? The open airy rooms, the feeling of reverence on some level, and both have many visitors. It is a perfect line of correlations between the two for the effect she wants to give.
Why would the baby's "Nakedness" shadow safety? What is one of the first things asked when a child is born? What is the gender! How uncomfortable it is to change a diaper with a crowd! "Standing round blankly as walls" is purely the action of the visitors. They stand around.
They look at the mother, the father, the baby. They don't know what else to do. Some do not know what to say. So, they "Ohh" and "Ahh" and make small talk.
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I'm no more your mother
Than the cloud that distills a mirror to reflect its own slow
Effacement at the wind's hand
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I read this section as her own awe of her child. She sees it as something greater than herself. She does not want to see that she was the creator, but merely a door to allow the child entry. She sees birth as a

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