all nearness pauses

Maxfield Parrish

all nearness pauses, while a star can grow
all distance breathes a final dream of bells;
perfectly outlined against afterglow
are all amazing and the peaceful hills
(not where not here but neither’s blue most both)

and history immeasurably is
wealthier by a single sweet day’s death:
as not imagined secrecies comprise

goldenly huge whole the upfloating moon.

Times a strange fellow;
more he gives than takes
(and he takes all)nor any marvel finds
quite disappearance but some keener makes
losing, gaining
—love! if a world ends
more than all worlds begin to(see?) begin

e.e. cummings 

 

Cummings' poems are so compact, how does a person begin to take them in? He sets out the opposites - "nearness", "farness" and then melds them together, he divides and then makes whole. He says, " not this, not that, but both", he is an "All" poet, a grand swirler and mixer of Everythings. And though stammered and ungrammered, utterly clear and true. 

That golden line:

 

"...and history immeasurably is

sweeter by a single sweet day's death"

 

I mean, who makes you think of the fine details of a minute within the breadth of all time quite as instantaneously as this?

Or:

 

"Time's a strange fellow;

More he gives than takes."

The briefest summation of the greatest complication!

I sit back and chew, just chew on his words.

Yes

Susan Ashworth.

Yes

It could happen any time, tornado,
earthquake, Armageddon. It could happen.
Or sunshine, love, salvation.

It could you know. That's why we wake
and look out – no guarantees
in this life.

But some bonuses, like morning,
like right now, like noon,
like evening.

– William Stafford

The third poem with “yes”. Like the “let” poems, I thought I'd put together a few different sides. “Let” was a fascinating word to see in poetry, so loaded with meaning. “Yes” is too. As a way of approaching the world, in welcome, openness, receptivity, in anticipation of possibilities. Also, the idea of life itself being affirmative, having a positive conclusion, of there being a sense of sustained order underlying everything. William Stafford’s poem feels similar to Jane Kenyon’s "Otherwise" in its awareness of change, that circumstances could be quite different tomorrow, or in a minute, and that this should be an incentive for us to pay attention to what is good, to what is going well, to the "little" things like the beauty of the time of day, the way the light falls, the sounds of people and the hum of activity around us, the whole scope of the earth in it's movement. I like how "yes" is used only once, in the title. It feels like a breath of thanks, as if the speaker took a break from his work, sat down with a cuppa, looked out the window and thought "This is a good moment. Yes. It could have been different." 

Love is a Place

William B. Hoyt

love is a place

 
love is a place

& through this place of 

love move

(with brightness of peace)

all places

yes is a world

& in this world of 

yes live

(skilfully curled)

all worlds

e.e. cummings

I spent a good amount of time hunting down an image for this. The first that came to mind was one I already used for “Let Love Go On”, and I considered using it again – why not? If the image happens to suit two (or more) poems, why hesitate using it for both? (A happy thought in itself, that a painting fits many poems, or vice versa. I could do a series of poems like that here one day.)  But, the poem ! As far as love poems go, this is one of the greatest, in my opinion.  Is there a more clear and beautiful way to speak of the universality of love, and of love as the Great Positive, the all-encompasser, the Great Embrace, the birthplace of life, the Source, the Fullness, the Everywhere-Home, the Center of Being/Belonging…and on and on and on? That line, “in this world of yes live (skilfully curled) all worlds” is like saying “everything good is indeed possible!”  If “love” and “yes” are linked – well! What do you make of that?!! (What does that mean for the world? For life? For you and me?) Cummings repeats this theme throughout his poetry, and it gets me every time.He does it in "i thank you God for most this amazing", and although he doesn't use the word "Yes" in "i am a little church" the sense of the Great Positive, of things coming right, is certainly there - "around me surges a miracle of unceasing/ birth and glory and death and resurrection:/ over my sleeping self float flaming symbols/  of hope". I've mentioned before how I was once told that hate and pain are more difficult to write about than love, and that in time I came to see that the opposite is true, that love is far more exacting, far far more arduous to write well about, having been so maligned and misrepresented, spun and perverted, that we hardly recognize it, nevermind speak with truth or accuracy in regard to it. So I cannot say enough in appreciation for what e.e. cummings does here. This is what I would call and Open Door poem, a poem that leads to so many possibilities, so many ideas - or a Tree of Life poem, with a thousand limbs and branches and leaves. Not to mention, it reminds me of this verse -

"For all the promises of God in Him {Jesus} are Yes and in Him, Amen, to the glory of God through us." 2 Corinthians 1:20.