It is November And all the leaves face my way Overlapping tussocks of grass Like long forgotten hills Dwelling in the overhang of fall
It is November Orange ribbons hand in tatters Patched up yellow cloaks are draped And whisking in the wind Then drifting to the earth And becoming winters pillow
It is November And there stands a lonely tower Base adorned with red bushes Flags no longer flying Crouched and crippled by the frost
It is November My feet bear down on acorns A thousand fold All left and forgotten Even to the squirrels Just a layer ‘neath my feet
It is November The solitary pines stand solid Near the ivy covered wall Their boughs raise and hail the heavens And their needles fall As the autumn wind dances a mournful dance
It is November Bare branches rake the cloudy skies And scratch out their heartfelt pleas Against cold glass windows Seeking what they have lost and will not find
It is November An old gate stands ajar Beckoning to no one Standing solidly open Despite the cruel fall wind
It is November Trees make colored circles A fading gold on fading green A fireworks display Now falling to the ground
It is November Cold air fills my body Cruel wind tosses my hair I seek a shelter from autumn My door is open Now I am home
Join us every Monday night at 8 PM GMT for Poetic Flows, a soothing and inspiring podcast by Emerald Book Club, where words come alive through the beauty of poetry. Hosted in a serene, reflective atmosphere, Poetic Flows showcases captivating spoken-word performances, poetic readings, and thought-provoking discussions about the art of poetry.
Each episode brings together poets, authors, and poetry lovers to share their craft, emotions, and insights. Whether you’re a seasoned poet or simply enjoy listening to the magic of words, this is the perfect space to explore the richness of language and connect with like-minded individuals.
Poetry is a form of literary art that uses aesthetic and often rhythmic qualities of language to evoke meanings in addition to, or in place of, literal or surface-level meanings. Any particular instance of poetry is called a poem and is written by a poet. Wikipedia
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One heavy day I ran away from the grim face of society and the dizzying clamor of the city and directed my weary step to the spacious alley. I pursued the beckoning course of the rivulet and the musical sounds of the birds until I reached a lonely spot where the flowing branches of the trees prevented the sun from the touching the earth.
I stood there, and it was entertaining to my soul - my thirsty soul who had seen naught but the mirage of life instead of its sweetness.
I was engrossed deeply in thought and my spirits were sailing the firmament when a hour, wearing a sprig of grapevine that covered part of her naked body, and a wreath of poppies about her golden hair, suddenly appeared to me. As she she realized my astonishment, she greeted me saying, 'Fear me not; I am the Nymph of the Jungle.'
'How can beauty like yours be committed to live in this place? Please tell me who your are, and whence you come? ' I asked. She sat gracefully on the green grass and responded, 'I am the symbol of nature! I am the ever virgin your forefathers worshipped, and to my honor they erected shrines and temples at Baalbek and Jbeil.' And I dared say, 'But those temples and shrines were laid waste and the bones of my adoring ancestors became a part of the earth; nothing was left to commemorate their goddess save a pitiful few and the forgotten pages in the book of history.'
She replied, 'Some goddesses live in the lives of their worshippers and die in their deaths, while some live an eternal and infinite life. My life is sustained by the world of beauty which you will see where ever you rest your eyes, and this beauty is nature itself; it is the beginning of the shepherds joy among the hills, and a villagers happiness in the fields, and the pleasure of the awe filled tribes between the mountains and the plains. This Beauty promotes the wise into the throne the truth.'
Then I said, 'Beauty is a terrible power! ' And she retorted, 'Human beings fear all things, even yourselves. You fear heaven, the source of spiritual peace; you fear nature, the haven of rest and tranquility; you fear the God of goodness and accuse him of anger, while he is full of love and mercy.'
After a deep silence, mingled with sweet dreams, I asked, 'Speak to me of that beauty which the people interpret and define, each one according to his own conception; I have seen her honored and worshipped in different ways and manners.'
She answered, 'Beauty is that which attracts your soul, and that which loves to give and not to receive. When you meet Beauty, you feel that the hands deep within your inner self are stretched forth to bring her into the domain of your heart. It is the magnificence combined of sorrow and joy; it is the Unseen which you see, and the Vague which you understand, and the Mute which you hear - it is the Holy of Holies that begins in yourself and ends vastly beyond your earthly imagination.'
Then the Nymph of the Jungle approached me and laid her scented hands upon my eyes. And as she withdrew, I found me alone in the valley. When I returned to the city, whose turbulence no longer vexed me, I repeated her words:
'Beauty is that which attracts your soul, and that which loves to give and not to receive.'
The years through which aught that hath life, O Sun, Hath watched or felt thy rising, what are they To those vast æons when, from night to day, From dawn to dark, thy circuit thou didst run, With none to greet thee or regret thee; none To bless thy glowing harbinger of cloud, Rose-tinted; none to sigh when, like a shroud, The banner of Night proclaimed her victory won? Yet, through that reign of seeming death, so long To our imperfect ken, the marvellous force Which means to ends adjusts in Nature's plan Was bringing to the birth that eye of man, Which now, O Sun, surveys thy farthest course— A speck amid the countless starry throng.
The poem reflects on the vast expanse of time through which the sun has existed and its role in the universe. Here's a critical summary and analysis:
Summary:
The poem contemplates the immense epochs during which the sun has risen and set, stretching back to periods far beyond human existence. The speaker contrasts these vast aeons with the relatively brief span during which life on Earth, especially human life, has observed and felt the sun’s presence. The poem highlights the sun’s unacknowledged journeys through the cosmos before any beings existed to appreciate its light and warmth. Despite the long era of seeming emptiness, the natural processes were at work, leading to the emergence of humans who now have the capacity to observe and reflect upon the sun’s path.
Analysis:
Themes:
Time and Eternity:
The poem delves into the concept of time, contrasting the brief span of human history with the incomprehensible length of cosmic time.
The "vast aeons" represent an almost eternal past when the sun existed without any observers.
Existence and Observation:
There’s a significant focus on the existence of the sun before life, emphasizing the idea that the sun’s value and significance are not diminished by the lack of observers.
The emergence of human beings, who can now appreciate and contemplate the sun, is portrayed as a crucial development.
Nature’s Plan and Evolution:
The poem suggests that nature has a plan, where everything from the sun’s existence to the development of human beings is part of a grand design.
The "marvellous force which means to ends adjusts in Nature's plan" implies an inherent order and purpose in the natural world.
Structure and Form:
The poem is structured as a single, reflective stanza with a rhyme scheme that ties the lines together.
The use of enjambment helps to maintain the flow of thoughts and emphasizes the continuity of time and the seamless transition from one era to another.
Imagery and Symbolism:
The Sun: Symbolizes constancy and the passage of time. It also represents the source of life and enlightenment.
Night and Day: These opposing forces symbolize the cycle of existence, with the sun’s daily journey marking the rhythm of time.
The Birth of Human Sight: The "eye of man" symbolizes human consciousness and the ability to appreciate and reflect on the universe.
Tone and Mood:
The tone is contemplative and somewhat awe-inspiring, inviting the reader to ponder the vastness of time and the smallness of human existence in comparison.
The mood evokes a sense of wonder and humility, acknowledging both the insignificance and the significance of human life in the grand scheme of things.
Conclusion:
The poem elegantly explores the themes of time, existence, and the evolution of life, using the sun as a central metaphor. It reflects on the grandeur of the cosmos and the unique position of humans as conscious observers within it. The interplay between the eternal presence of the sun and the relatively fleeting existence of humanity provides a profound commentary on our place in the universe.
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