i
thank You God for most this amazing
day: for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes
day: for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes
(i
who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun’s birthday; this is the birth
day of life and of love and wings: and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)
and this is the sun’s birthday; this is the birth
day of life and of love and wings: and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)
how
should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any–lifted from the no
of all nothing–human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?
breathing any–lifted from the no
of all nothing–human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?
(now
the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)
Some
thoughts…
On this
Poem: E. E. Cummings in his
element here.
leaping greenly…blue true dream of sky…everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes…
The lyric beauty of his language, untrammeled
by punctuation serves to greater highlight the sense of breathless rapture
evident in this poem.
I’m not sure what Cummings’ personal beliefs
were, but this poem conveys an almost religious ecstasy - a sense of intimacy
with the Divine; a joy and wonder in Nature as an expression of infinite
possibility; gratitude for the gift of a new day.
If he wonders how mortal man restricted by
mere sensory perceptions can doubt ‘unimaginable You’, there is perhaps more
than a hint of an answer in the last verse: we seek the ‘unimaginable’ not with
the ear, not with the eye; but by the faculty of the Inner Spirit that causes
the ears to hear and the eyes to see.
If you consider the etymology, an ‘inspired’
poet is quite literally one who is filled with the breath of the Gods; sent
forth to utter, sing, or babble the truth evidenced to him. As Shakespeare
said, “The lunatic, the lover, and the poet are of imagination all compact.”
Unpunctuated prose may be a sign of an
incoherent mind running amuck. There, the rules are different. Prose requires
first and foremost, rational thought; then, logical organization; and only then
clear and concise expression. Poetic license can afford to dispense with those
notions. Nobody broke those rules with quite the effect Cummings did.
On a
personal note: Happy Earth
Week! Wishing you all the joy and wonder of this ‘gay great happening
illimitably earth’.
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