In 7th grade, a substitute teacher introduced us to poetry. Well, sort of. He circulated a copy of the lyrics for America’s hit song: A Horse With No Name. The class lit up like fireflies offering up their interpretations. DK, shoulders slumped, head down, was pretending to be reading the lyrics – - sat nervously hoping he wouldn’t be called on. The 30 minutes of inadequacy never vacated short term memory. (Samuel Beckett: I’m like that. Either I forget right away or I never forget.“) I came across the poem below by George MacDonald and I found it moving me…Spring fever perhaps….and as my eyes slowly worked down one line and then the next, I found my spirits lifting…Hey! I understand this. I get it. I like it. No, I love it. And, then. Reality. I reached the last line and was stoned.
Through all the fog, through all earth’s wintery sighs,
I scent Thy spring, I feel the eternal air,
Warm, soft, and dewy, filled with flowery eyes,
And gentle, murmuring motions everywhere—
Of life in heart, and tree, and brook, and moss;
Thy breath wakes beauty, love, and bliss, and prayer,
And strength to hang with nails upon thy cross.
- George MacDonald, Diary of an Old Soul
So Sensei. My wise readers. Help me out. Explain what the last line means. So, I can get to sleep. Or, better yet, tell me you have no idea either. And I’ll sleep like a baby.
Source of Beckett quote and MacDonald Poem: journalofanobody