The Prayer of Poetry

When my son was very young, just learning to weave his words, we were listening to Good Poems on CD. When he heard this gem, another from Emily Dickinson, he said with wonder, "Mommy, that's a prayer." Dickinson, at her best, is a prayer and a wonder.

I've Known a Heaven Like a Tent

Emily Dickinson

I've known a Heaven like a tent

To wrap its shining yards,

Pluck up its stakes and disappear

Without the sound of boards

Or rip of nail, or carpenter,

But just the miles of stare

That signalize a show's retreat

In North America.

No trace, no figment of the thing

That dazzled yesterday,

No ring, no marvel;

Men and feats

Dissolved as utterly

As birds' far navigation

Discloses just a hue;

A plash of oars -a gaiety,

Then swallowed up to view.


1 comment:

  1. I too have known this sort of heaven, while camping and I experienced Nature for a day before getting back into the rig-ama-role of this society. Of course I am ever so grateful for my super busy schedule. In fact I think I would go crazy without it. Too much time doing nothing at all can lead me to chaos, in fact, diamonds are formed under pressure. I have wrote a few poems, though unpublished and written on napkins or even on a text to myself. I find its like the music I play on my guitar, better to help ease my mind at times. Poetry seems to help with that at times, and like a song, or a horoscope, it is open to my own interpretation.


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