Not having been hospitalized: Not having been hospitalized yet, I can take a moment to comment on this next example of Patricia's poetic greatness. I apologize in advance if I make typos and fail to catch them: the right hand is still not fully functional.
As I read it, the poem has two centers of gravity---like a binary star system---that orbit each other: the three lines that mention Polaris, the moon, and the found self; and the image of infinity playing notes of spheres. In both she demonstrates her usual and powerful skill of poetic fusion---joining the cosmic with the personal. I have written elsewhere of the cosmos explaining itself to itself and to us, and doing that through us, and this also defines Patricia's Poetry in one of its most dramatic functions. (College students take note: a major in Literature, specifically Poetry, and a minor in Astronomy will give you powerful insight into her Poems.)
The poem, like her others, shows that the fusion of the cosmic and the personal brings the soul to a triumphant moment, described in the last eight lines, where it finds "this brand / of Love / will never leave . . . ." And the poem arrives at this conclusion after passing through several obstacles, conditions, or intrusions that seem to vie with each other in order to block the path to the last eight lines, but still fail to do so. And the cosmos is the venue in which this process can happen for each and every person. Our flesh is made of elements fused from hydrogen in the cores of stars, and then made the bearers of souls gifted to us by God. And the Cosmos, as beautiful, and vast, and intricately designed as it is was also deliberately designed, by God, without a soul: that is where we come in. The linkage of our souls in that "brand / of Love / will never leave" gives the Cosmos its soul, its sentience, and its sole awareness of itself. And the Poems of Patriciajj, like the Poems of the greatest Poets (beginning with Callimachus, then Vergil, and then forward) show us how this process works.
Unlike broken globeminds: Unlike broken globeminds,
The largest, shattered shards
And "infinity playing notes"
Yours are the real soothsayer,
Love-language of a mystic,
Materialized with the kinda
Verse it's always deserved.
A resounding "Thank you!" for: A resounding "Thank you!" for your profound and eloquent reflection. You're bursting with brilliance yourself, dear poet.
I'm feeling this to center of: I'm feeling this to center of my being. The world certainly does trample what it doesn't understand, and too often it doesn't understand genuine kindness, unconditional generosity and sensitivity. It's OK to feel vulnerable and even hopeless sometimes. It's part of the deal.
There's comfort and beauty in your poignant honesty and unflinching, unapologetic emotion; the type that makes the reader feel they are not alone.
And I'm intrigued, actually, very impressed, by your last line: how it floats, open-ended, with hope that decrees, strategically and cleverly, your title.
An achingly sad and relatable expression.
Just remember, dear poet, you are an artist and a blessing to so many!
Just lovely! if only we knew,: Just lovely! if only we knew, but then glad we don't this is a great vantage point to lift a prayer from, the quiet multitudes of miracles Un noted day after day. Yeah, you're brilliant like that! Hugss and best blessings ss
So beautifully and humbly: So beautifully and humbly said you should reek of pride after this one. Brilliant! I could relate 9n some levels easily, others I still need to work on :) too easily mastered, great line. It feels very sincere yet a little pomp which gives this prayer poem an edgy vibe sorry not sorry vibe, its just got me all up in knits and knits trying to decide the skill level and intention behind the intention and the subconscious expressio and intention Beneath all that! Great write sir! Forgivness and Blessings Ss
I really like this poem. : I really like this poem. Jesus, Himself, said that doing, or not doing, to the least of His brethren was the same as doing, or not doing, to Him. Therefore, your poem seems theologically sound upon that verse from Saint Matthew.
Thank you. I had replied to: Thank you. I had replied to your comment earlier, but due to the turmoil going on in my home at that time, I was not able to concentrate on the words I wanted to say. I really appreciate your validation of this poem. It came to me spontaneously, with very little adjustment on my part. I think it must have arisen out of reading Milton and looking at some of the photographs transmitted by the Webb telescope. Thanks again for commenting.
I don't think I breathed: I don't think I breathed through this furiously spellbinding drama. It gripped, it heaved, it crashed, it triumphed, it devastated, and all with an awe-inspiring mastery of language.
I didn't just envision "A black mountain of water" that "rose at the horizon" but I felt its pummeling assault, smelled the salty breath of its monstrous side, experienced the cyclone of terror until, for a while, the mage seemed victorious.
The build-up to the showdown with the stunningly personified sea, the enemy, was one dizzying literary feat, but the bold ending was pure gold.
Bravo and Bravo!
If I could speak to my: If I could speak to my younger self I would tell her to choose the one who looks within and loves more than the surface. That's why these lines resonated with me so well and spoke volumes with shattering eloquence:
"I craved to know you from the inside
To cradle your heart as it beat fiercely
Bathe in the baritone of your voice"
An electrifying inner union expressed through physical passion. Powerful stuff!
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