Poetry gives us eyes to see and ears to hear what is all around us, although normally we remain blind and deaf to it all. Just a glimpse, and enough wisdom to know it's my lack of sight rather than a lack of the miraculous that stops me from seeing it - and my lack of a discerning ear that keeps me from hearing it. Thanks, David!
For some reason--at this stage of my life--it seems only the poets do that, break through all the chatter and clamor, all the loud and puffed-up voices, and simply draws back the veil and leaves the seeing and knowing to you.
OMG, David! Thank you for this moment of bliss. I will read your essay many times over, cherishing each word you wrote, and, of course, those of poet Wordsworth, trying to absorb the message and meaning of it all. Your words truly made me stop and think! Patti Hueni
I remember visiting those lovely ruins as a 14 year old…there certainly is an atmosphere of longing and beauty hanging around there. Fortunately the scaffolding was not yet there.
You were lucky to have someone take you there at 14. And yes, there is a remarkable atmosphere there—it’s a ‘thin place.’ I’m sure things have built up a good bit since 1798, but it still sits in the landscape with nothing else standing out—it feels all alone, the central feature of the scene.
I was thinking about that red tractor crashing your Tintern reflection and then I saw this in my A Word A Day email:
In order for me to write poetry that isn't political / I must listen to the birds / and in order to hear the birds / the warplanes must be silent. -Marwan Makhoul, poet (b. 2 Jul 1979)
David, thanks for the gift this morning of “a tremor of bliss, a wink of heaven, a whisper.”
Poetry gives us eyes to see and ears to hear what is all around us, although normally we remain blind and deaf to it all. Just a glimpse, and enough wisdom to know it's my lack of sight rather than a lack of the miraculous that stops me from seeing it - and my lack of a discerning ear that keeps me from hearing it. Thanks, David!
For some reason--at this stage of my life--it seems only the poets do that, break through all the chatter and clamor, all the loud and puffed-up voices, and simply draws back the veil and leaves the seeing and knowing to you.
OMG, David! Thank you for this moment of bliss. I will read your essay many times over, cherishing each word you wrote, and, of course, those of poet Wordsworth, trying to absorb the message and meaning of it all. Your words truly made me stop and think! Patti Hueni
Stop and think—that’s what Wordsworth was doing, and what we can try to do as well.
Thanks for reading!
🥹💙🙏🍃
I remember visiting those lovely ruins as a 14 year old…there certainly is an atmosphere of longing and beauty hanging around there. Fortunately the scaffolding was not yet there.
You were lucky to have someone take you there at 14. And yes, there is a remarkable atmosphere there—it’s a ‘thin place.’ I’m sure things have built up a good bit since 1798, but it still sits in the landscape with nothing else standing out—it feels all alone, the central feature of the scene.
Just what I need to hear and just at the exact right moment in time. Thank you.
Well, as a writer, you know how much that means to me.
I was thinking about that red tractor crashing your Tintern reflection and then I saw this in my A Word A Day email:
In order for me to write poetry that isn't political / I must listen to the birds / and in order to hear the birds / the warplanes must be silent. -Marwan Makhoul, poet (b. 2 Jul 1979)
That's quite Wordsworthian!