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Immanence
Earlier this week, I awoke suddenly in the middle of the night. As I came to consciousness, these words floated up: "out into the phoenix world." Complete nonsense? The sole remnant of a forgotten...
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Reeds
On a recent sunny afternoon, as I walked down an avenue of trees, the thought occurred to me: This is enough. What, you may ask, was "enough"? The ever-restless dappled light and shadow on the path...
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Adrift
A few posts ago, I considered Matthew Arnold's use of the "Sea of Life" metaphor in his poetry. Recently, however, my thoughts have turned to a more homely image of life: a boat adrift on calm...
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Flowers And Stars
It has taken me far too long to get it through my thick skull (and into my head and heart) that Keats has been right all along. But better late than never. To wit:"Beauty is truth, truth beauty," --...
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Fallen
Autumn simplifies things. It reminds us of that which is elemental and essential in the World, and in our life. This is good, since existence is not as fraught with complication as we think it is.The...
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Leaves And Clocks
The wistful exhilaration of autumn is all about the passage of time, isn't it? Yes, I realize that I am stating the obvious. Moreover, you may well say: "But isn't everything about the passage of...
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Perspective
As I mentioned in a recent post, I did my best to completely ignore the presidential election. I also chose not to vote in it: I do not consider it my civic duty to cast a vote for the least...
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Detachment
This week, I returned to the following poem: From My WindowAn old man leaning on a gateOver a London mews -- to contemplate --Is it the sky above -- the stones below? Is it remembrance...
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Timeless
The sight of a solitary bird crossing the sky is a common occurrence in Chinese poetry. These lone birds are seldom the main subject of the poem. Rather, they pass through in a single line of verse:...
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Seasons
I often walk past a small meadow of wild grasses that ends in a forest of evergreens and deciduous trees. At this time of year, it is a tawny, brown, and russet world, save for the dark green pines...
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Motion
One sunny afternoon this past summer, as I walked beneath a big-leaf maple, I was struck by the thought that we live in a World in which everything is in motion. The thought was prompted by the sight...
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Another Time
I have spent a fair portion of the new year in the 17th century. My sojourn began when I returned to one of my favorite anthologies: Norman Ault's Seventeenth Century Lyrics. Browsing through it, I...
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Unknowable
Given the mystery of our own souls, we ought to be respectful of the souls of the strangers who share our time on earth. Hence, a poet takes a risk when he or she presents us with a portrait of one of...
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Beauty
On the subject of beauty, this is as good a place as any to begin:"A thing is beautiful to the extent that it does not let itself be caught."Philippe Jaccottet (translated by John Taylor), from "Blazon...
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Boat
A certain segment of the American population has worked itself into quite a tizzy over our new political state of affairs. How can I tell? The old standby clichés are being paraded on a daily basis....
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Flower
Earlier this week I saw the first crocuses of the year: white and purple (three white inner petals; three pale purple outer petals) set within deep green leaves. Daffodil stalks have begun to emerge...
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For Mary Coleridge
As long-time (and much-appreciated!) readers of this blog may recall, one of my oft-repeated precepts regarding poetry is this: It is the individual poem that matters, not the poet. Of course, I make...
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A Life
A few months ago, I discovered a lovely and moving poem. I have a little story to tell about how this discovery came about, but the poem itself is entitled to center stage.'In memory of Thomasine...
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Absence
My favorite poems from The Greek Anthology are the epitaphs and the elegies. The best of them combine graceful, noble simplicity with deeply-felt, but restrained, emotion. E. K. Chambers's poem in...
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For Edward Thomas
Tomorrow will be the 100th anniversary of the death of Edward Thomas at the Battle of Arras. In 1917, April 9 fell on Easter Monday.Thomas wrote the following poem on April 6, 1915: two days after...
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