Friday, November 19, 2010
Owe Naught to Any Single Cord
Two minutes. Start this song, close your eyes, listen to the whole thing dancing, that two minute song does more in two minutes than 99.94% of other songs do in more.
Also, a friend's inquiry reminds me to ask: those few of the few of you who read this blog who read the poems I post are reading them out loud, yes? because reading poetry needs be a physical act for the total wow.
THE SILKEN TENT
She is as in a field a silken tent
At midday when the sunny summer breeze
Has dried the dew and all its ropes relent,
So that in guys it gently sways at ease,
And its supporting central cedar pole,
That is its pinnacle to heavenward
And signifies the sureness of the soul,
Seems to owe naught to any single cord,
But strictly held by none, is loosely bound
By countless silken ties of love and thought
To every thing on earth the compass round,
And only by one's going slightly taut
In the capriciousness of summer air
Is of the slightest bondage made aware.