We who with songs beguile your pilgrimage / And swear that Beauty lives though lilies die, / We Poets of the proud old lineage / Who sing to find your hearts, we know not why ... (James Elroy Flecker)

22.3.20

Non-Elegy

Non-Elegy

I think of that tall woman
who loved the physical world,
loved to walk in it, stare at it,
write down her ecstatic
embrace of the world
in words that made me
love it all too, seeing 
and experiencing
all of it, just as she told –

and I find it in me to be glad
she left when she did, before
we had come to this – it would
have caused her, I think,
so much sadness. Although
perhaps she would have found
a way still to rejoice. After all
it’s only people in danger. There will
still be streams, young deer, white moths….



Sharing in Writers' Pantry #12 at Poets and Storytellers United, and at earthweal Open Link #12 – and in general, for World Poetry Day: March 21.

36 comments:

  1. Those last 3 lines - they spoke to me, raw and deep.... I know one day this too will pass but the feeling that it will be a whole lot worse before it gets better still weighs me down. There will still be streams and deer and white moths ... wow... thanks for writing this, Rosemary.

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    1. But not so many people....

      I hope we all come out the other side, though I am sure very changed. I myself am glad to think there may still be beauty.

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  2. I’ve been thinking similar thoughts, Rosemary, so glad that loved ones who are no longer with us have been spared the fears and tragedies of this pandemic. We are all trapped in our isolation, looking out at a world we were once able to explore. The final lines are chilling and hopeful at the same time.

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    1. Yes, it's strange, isn't it? I lost several close friends last year. One so wished they could still be alive – but now, we are thankful they aren't. Or that, if they had to go at all, they timed it so as to miss the horrors since, both the fires and the virus.

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  3. Testing times, and yes, your sentiment is spot on.

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  4. My Beloved Sandra and I were talking about our (now deceased) mothers yesterday. Neither one would have weathered the isolation we're currently being asked to endure. It's hard to hear yourself thinking, "I'm glad she's not here..."

    Nice work, R.

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  5. It's rare when humans are the primary sufferer to the world's benefit -- how often does that happen, any more? May there be great lessons about hubris and casual annihilation of nature. If what goes around comes around, then all our great cruelties do rebound this way -- ironically, from a pangolin poached almost to extinction, become nature's whoopass savior. Well done and thanks for bringing it to earthweal ... Brendan

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  6. I remember a really dear friend of mine. He's the one who convinced my husband and I to start dating. He's been gone for several years now, and I wonder how he would have seen all of this. Would his sense of humor be up to this? His sense of mischief might have had it's limits. I know he'd have lost patience with more than a few of our mutual acquaintances because of some of the politics of today. We're close with his widow and children, though the two eldest have asthma and I worry a lot for them.

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  7. This poem resonates on so many levels, Rosemary! The world as we know it has gone through a lot of changes since the past five years. And though I wish our loved ones were still amongst us, I am glad they have moved on to a better place. Sending love and hugs!

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  8. I have been thinking about how the current situation would've affected my grandmother, and found myself feeling thankful that she isn't here to satisfy this particular curiosity. I think the state of the world and how some of its people are reacting to it all would've broken her heart. Thank goodness for small mercies.

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  9. Yes, we that are left to cope can find some comfort in those who have gone where nothing can touch them any more, and use our memories of their grace to comfort us.

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  10. I love the hope I see and the sensation of a better tomorrow on the "streams, young deer, white moths..."

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  11. Your ending says it all. I prefer to immerse myself in nature, rather than listen to the prattlings of the doom and gloom crowd. Things feel amazingly normal again. The birds aren't tweeting danger (they're not on Twitter). Their songs haven't changed. The sun continues to nourish us and give us life. Nobody knows exactly how this will come out, but I prefer to face the firing squad with dignity and head held high.

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    1. I relate to your comment, Timoteo. Thanks for writing it; well said.

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  12. I take comfort knowing the young deer and streams will still be here. So much loss this past year. My heart grieves but, I stay hopeful when I look out the window and see trees in bloom and spring
    is arriving amidst the darkness of uncertainty.

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  13. We in the midst of thus darkness there is so much still to be grateful for

    Happy Sunday


    Much❤love

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    1. Yes, good reminder, Gillena. Gratitude is so important. I believe it is a way of telling the Universe (with our energy) what we like and would like more of.

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  14. Let us hope we come out the other side a bit wiser, a bit more compassionate, a bit less selfish, and a bit stronger in faith. I look out the window and see the grass greening and the daffodils blooming. They don't know ……...

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  15. Perhaps a disease such as this comes automatically when numbers need to be culled. For some time now we have seen unusual natural disasters, Antarctica melting, forests burning and now a world wide plague. Now how do we survive? I think we should continue writing poetry!

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  16. I have had the same sorts of thoughts, regarding people who have recently died, before this happened.

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  17. Some are spared that way. Maybe we are becoming extinct like the animals.

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  18. In tough economic times, I think of my grandparents who lost farms during the depression. During cold winters, I think of my father who was on the front lines during the Battle of the Bulge. Right now, I think of those ancestors who lived through the Black Plague, smallpox, polio, Spanish Flu, etc.
    I don't know what tomorrow will be for us. These are interesting times but I think we will get through it as they did. Be of good cheer

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    1. I think being of good cheer – whilst taking sensible precautions – is actually good advice for staying healthy.

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  19. I think of my brother in law who died a year ago, how he'd have humor and wit in this menace. And I think that humans are taking (more than) a fair bit of the rest of living things with us, as we go...

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    1. Yes, I'm really only talking about one woman and one particular piece of country she loved. I wasn't generalising.

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  20. This is very moving and also uncompromising in the questions it poses. "After all it's only people in danger"...this could be read a number of ways which is what makes it so intriguing...JIM

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    1. I'm so glad you noticed that ambiguity! Entirely intentional.

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  21. "it’s only people in danger. There will
    still be streams, young deer, white moths…." Loved reading it so much!

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  22. Very thought provoking, Rosemary. For us humans I'm thinking we may have lived in the "good old dsys." For the dwindling wildlife they for sure have. And, we elders won't have too much time left, in the bad. Next generations have been abandoned.
    ..

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    1. Yes, I've been having some 'good old days' memories too. Things have changed a lot! But we elders won't know what happens in the future. Maybe there will be a turn-around.

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  23. I have been incredibly sad when poets I consider friends, even in the blogosphere, pass away. It has happened far too ofen since I began writing twelve years ago. Stay healthy.

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