Memories and poetry

An evening of forgoing plans in order to care for a unwell child, and instead sorting quietly through my many boxes of cards, letters, and correspondence dating back two and a half decades – line after line of appreciation, connection, joy, and love.

One of the treasures that resurfaced is my old file of poetry, many of my own creation but a great number of others gathered slowly over the years, painstakingly transcribed. I sat and read poems out loud just to feel them slip joyously, buoyantly, softly off my tongue. Ah, how I have missed reading poetry! I thought I would share an old favourite by e.e.cummings, who I always most appreciate when I read his words aloud, and let their rhythm speak perfect sense from sometimes nonsense, straight to my heart:

all nearness pauses, while a star can grow

all distance breathes a final dream of bells;
perfectly outlined against afterglow
are all amazing the and peaceful hills

(not where not here but neither’s blue most both)

and history immeasurably is
wealthier by a single sweet day’s death:
as not imagined secrecies comprise

goldenly huge whole the upfloating moon.

Time’s a strange fellow;
more he gives than takes

(and he takes all)nor any marvel finds
quite disappearance but some keener makes
—love!if a world ends

more than all worlds begin to(see?)begin


2 thoughts on “Memories and poetry

    1. Mmmm it’s lovely to get these little reminders of things that have given us pleasure in the past, isn’t it? All is very well; as always, in my silences, please know I continue to read and greatly enjoy your writing, and your friendship. Sending you a hug x

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