Poetry: April 2005 Archives

I find my mood drifts like dandelion seeds on the wind each and every day. While yesterday I was sarcastic and teasing all day long this morning I find myself quiet and introspective, hungry for intimacy that is not physically present. To turn a cliche 'absence makes the heart grow fonder'. I do not always pick apart poetry to find the deeper meanings hidden in each word. Sometimes I accept them at face value and treasure the turn of a pen that can write strings of words that elude me. This is one of those times. This is one of my favorite poems by e.e cummings. It is romantic and sentimental and intimate. It is perfectly eloquent. i carry your heart with me i carry your heart with me(i carry it in my heart)i am never without it(anywhere i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done by only me is your doing,my darling) i fear no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true) and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you here is the deepest secret nobody knows (here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide) and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart) - e.e. cummings I wonder what mood those who might read this find themselves today ... Steven once wrote me poetry back in our days of courting. (We courted we did not date.) I treasure them, now more than ever because since that time he has never written me another poem. Yesterday I was asked what gift I would like for Mother's Day. His turning of a pen once more would be gift enough. The intimacy of thought would be a perfect gift. Don't you think? Are those things that should be asked for? I do not know. I only know that I miss that part of us. The first poem we shared was Disirarata by Max Ehrmann.