30 Poems: Number 6

[winterbadger]

I'm a day behind, so I'll add this poem today, another by cummings which I had not read before until the I found the page where I found the little lame balloon man. (It's here, for those who would read more cummings.)



it may not always be so; and i say
that if your lips, which i have loved, should touch
another's, and your dear strong fingers clutch
his heart, as mine in time not far away;
if on another's face your sweet hair lay
in such a silence as i know, or such
great writhing words as, uttering overmuch,
stand helplessly before the spirit at bay;

if this should be, i say if this should be--
you of my heart, send me a little word;
that i may go unto him, and take his hands,
saying, Accept all happiness from me.
Then shall i turn my face, and hear one bird
sing terribly afar in the lost lands.


This one struck me particularly as it echoes some things I had been thinking about. I was listening to the soundtrack from Rushmore in the car yesterday, and on came Cat Stevens' song "Here Comes My Bay". I'd always thought it was a cheerful, joyful song, I think because I'd never listened very closely to the lyrics. Actually hearing them, and thinking about them, my feelings are much more mixed. To me, it, and this poem, are much more about accepting life as it is, without resentment or envy. Which is not always easy--I know that bird's song.

Comments

[la-renardine.livejournal.com]

By sheer coincidence, another friend posted this ee cummings poem on Facebook today. Noteworthy because she doesn't usually post poetry; must be something in the spring air besides pollen.
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/there-are-so-many-tictoc/

[winterbadger]

I like that one too. :-)