Linda's Literary Home

Tag: God

  • Emily Dickinson’s “I never told the buried gold”

    Image: Emily Dickinson – Amherst College – Daguerrotype of the poet at age 17, circa 1847 – likely the only authentic, extant likeness of the poet

    Emily Dickinson’s “I never told the buried gold”

    In Emily Dickinson’s “I never told the buried gold,”  the speaker has made an amazing discovery; she then creates a little drama in which she muses on whether to reveal that discovery. 

    Introduction with Text of “I never told the buried gold”

    The speaker in Emily Dickinson’s “I never told the buried gold” seems to be sharing a secret, but it is a secret so bizarre that she must couch it deeply in mystery.  

    She has realized a possession that is buried so deep in her psyche that she must dramatize it by creating a parable-like discourse, and she yet remains so ambivalent about revealing it that she seems to continue to waver as her drama unfolds.

    I never told the buried gold

    I never told the buried gold
    Upon the hill – that lies –
    I saw the sun – his plunder done
    Crouch low to guard his prize.

    He stood as near
    As stood you here –
    A pace had been between –
    Did but a snake bisect the brake
    My life had forfeit been.

    That was a wondrous booty –
    I hope ’twas honest gained.
    Those were the fairest ingots
    That ever kissed the spade!

    Whether to keep the secret –
    Whether to reveal –
    Whether as I ponder
    Kidd will sudden sail –

    Could a shrewd advise me
    We might e’en divide –
    Should a shrewd betray me –
    Atropos decide! 

    Commentary on “I never told the buried gold”

    The speaker is dramatizing her process of decision-making involving a recent discovery.

    First Stanza:  Revealing a Secret

    I never told the buried gold
    Upon the hill – that lies –
    I saw the sun – his plunder done
    Crouch low to guard his prize.

    The speaker begins by reporting that she has never told anyone about this treasure that she possesses.  Then immediately she begins to liken it to the valuable metal, “gold.”  She places that gold upon a hill where the sun is guarding it.  This gold belongs to the sun in the same way that her possession belongs to her.

    The sun seems to “plunder” as it moves about in its shining rays over the landscape, and it then stoops over the hill where the gold is buried; in stealth, the sun watches over its treasure.  The speaker has observed this odd behavior of the heavenly orb.  

    Thus, she likens her own guarding of her  “prize” to that of the sun guarding the gold.    The speaker intends to guard her prize because of its unusual nature, but the sun will continue to keep its prize safe out of sheer natural necessity.

    Second Stanza:  The Shock of Recognition

    He stood as near
    As stood you here –
    A pace had been between –
    Did but a snake bisect the brake
    My life had forfeit been.

    The speaker now has the sun standing near her, as near as the imaginary audience she is addressing.  There is, however, “a pace” between them.  

    And then a snake slithers through the thicket, dividing the foliage as it is wont to do.  (This image is reminiscent of the line, “The Grass divides as with a Comb,” in Dickinson’s riddle poem, “A narrow Fellow in the Grass.”)

    The speaker then makes the odd claim that her life had been forfeited, suggesting that for an instant she likely gave out a gasp of fear before regaining her equilibrium enough to continue living, thinking, and creating her drama.  The snake supplies the impetus for the notion of life forfeiting.

    While the speaker suddenly experiences the epiphany that she was in possession of this magnificent, golden gift, she also experiences a shock that unsettled her for at least a brief moment.

    Third Stanza:  Desire to be Worthy 

    That was a wondrous booty –
    I hope ’twas honest gained.
    Those were the fairest ingots
    That ever kissed the spade!

    The speaker now admits that what she has realized about herself is tantamount to coming into the possession of large storehouse of amazing gifts or treasure.  She calls her treasure “wondrous booty,” and then she indicates that she hopes she has earned this amazing treasure-trove, and not merely stolen it or been given it willy-nilly, or inexplicably.

    The speaker then sizes up the value of this mysterious possession, by continuing the “gold” metaphor.  Now calling her possession “ingots,” she estimates their value as the “fairest” “that ever kissed the spade.”  

    Of course, ingots must be dug out of the ground, and when they are found by the excavating shovel, those ingots meet the metal of the “spade” with resounding touch, which the speaker calls a “kiss.”

    Fourth Stanza:  Whether to Reveal the Secret

    Whether to keep the secret –
    Whether to reveal –
    Whether as I ponder
    Kidd will sudden sail –

    Again, the speaker becomes ambivalent about revealing this amazing “secret.”  She lists her toggling of the mind that cannot decide if she should keep hidden this new knowledge or whether she ought to announce it.

    As the speaker muses on the issue—whether to tell or not, she reckons that Captain Kidd might just be sailing to retrieve his own booty of treasure, which by legend he had buried in the Caribbean.

    This clever employment of “Kidd” and the allusion that it implies deepens the “gold” and treasure metaphor, continuing the revelation of the value the speaker has placed on this mysterious treasure of which she has become aware.

    Fifth Stanza:  Leaving the Mystery to Eternity

    Could a shrewd advise me
    We might e’en divide –
    Should a shrewd betray me –
    Atropos decide! 

    The speaker then makes a hilarious admission.  If someone who is smart enough to know whether she should reveal her treasure should let her know what is appropriate, she would be willing to give that person part of her treasure.  

    But she does not know if there is such a knowledgeable person who is trustworthy.  If she reveals her secret to the wrong “shrewd,” she might live to regret it.  She could be ridiculed and left to suffer much betrayal.

    By calling her potential advisor a “shrewd,” the speaker is making fun of such individuals whom she thinks might believe they are, in fact, capable of advising her.  But because she allows that a “shrewd” could likely betray her confidence, she remains ambivalent about seeking their advice.

    Instead of making a definite decision about whether to seek counsel from one of those shrewds, the speaker decides not to decide.  She will leave the decision to “Atropos,” one of the Greek Fates, who is responsible for deciding the exact time for the end of each human life.  Atropos held the scissors that cut the thread of life.

    The  speaker thus decides to leave her decision to the ultimate decision-maker, one whose decision is not only final but made without equivocation.   The speaker will remain in humble possession of her knowledge that she owns a mystic, creative soul that will from now on guide her in her creation of little dramas on her pathway through life.  

    Without having revealed her secret to the wide, gaping yet eyeless majority of the world, the speaker has revealed her secret only to those who will understand. It is in that respect that the speaker’s poem is like a parable of Lord Jesus the Christ, who spoke through that form only to those who had ears to hear.

  • Emily Dickinson’s “On this wondrous sea”

    Image: Emily Dickinson – Amherst College – Daguerrotype of the poet at age 17, circa 1847 – likely the only authentic, extant likeness of the poet

    Emily Dickinson’s “On this wondrous sea”

    In the first movement of Dickinson’s “On this wondrous sea,” the speaker addresses God as the metaphorical pilot of a metaphorical seafaring vessel; in the second movement, the speaker allows that “pilot” to speak as He answers her supplicating question.

    Introduction and Text of “On this wondrous sea”

    Emily Dickinson’s fourth poem in Thomas H. Johnson’s The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson may be thought of as the beginning of her true style and content.  The first three poems feature two Valentine messages ( “Awake ye muses nine, sing me a strain divine” and “Sic transit gloria mundi“) and an invitation (“There is another sky”) to her brother, Austin, to come and experience the new world she is creating with her poetry.

    In contrast to the first three entries in Dickinson’s complete poems, “On this wondrous sea” sets out on a journey of poetry creation that will involve her belovèd Creator, whom she will beseech and at times even argue with in her zeal to substantiate truth and beauty in her other “sky.”

    In a very real sense, the Dickinson speaker is performing a set of little dramas that resemble that of the speaker of the Shakespeare sonnets.  The Shakespeare sonneteer was interested only in preserving truth, beauty, and love in his creations for future generations.  

    In the course of those sonnets, especially the section known as “The Muse Sonnets,” the Shakespeare writer expresses his desire repeatedly to present only truth, beauty, and love in his works, in contrast to the slathering on of tinsel and meaningless blather sent out by non-serious artist wannabes, known as poetasters.

    The Dickinson speaker demonstrates the same proclivities, and it also becomes evident that she shows a keen ability to observe the tiniest detail in her environment.  Yet, even as she focuses on those details, her vision never lowers from her mystic sight.

    It is in that focus that Dickinson differs dramatically from the Shakespearean sonneteer.  While he reveals his devout awareness of the mystical in his life, he remains a mere observer compared to the active mysticism of the Dickinson speaker.

    Emily Dickinson’s rare ability to communicate the ineffable has earned her a place in American letters that no other literary figure in the English language has been able to outpace.

    On this wondrous sea

    On this wondrous sea
    Sailing silently,
    Ho! Pilot, ho!
    Knowest thou the shore
    Where no breakers roar —
    Where the storm is o’er?

    In the peaceful west
    Many the sails at rest —
    The anchors fast —
    Thither I pilot thee
    Land Ho! Eternity!
    Ashore at last!

    Commentary on “On this wondrous sea”

    The whole physical world becomes an ocean on which the speaker finds herself tossed and wondering if she will ever be returned to the safety of land.

    First Movement:  The Sea as Metaphor

    The speaker begins by creating a metaphor for the physical level of being, this wide world, in which she finds herself tempest tossed and uncertain of the way to safety.  Calling this world a “wondrous sea,” she reports that she is quietly sailing upon this ocean of chaos, then suddenly she cries out: “Ho! Pilot, ho!”

    And then she demands of the pilot to know if he knows where there is safety, where there are no trials and tribulations, where one can find rest from the many upheavals and battles that continually confront each inhabitant of this world.  Upon first encountering, it may seem that the speaker is addressing some sea captain as she rides in some maritime vessel.

    But it quickly becomes apparent that the speaker is addressing the Creator of the universe, and she wants to know if the Creator of this seemingly confusing Creation knows where she can go to come out of “the storm.”  As the “sea” is a metaphor for the world, the “Pilot” is the metaphor for the Creator (or God), Who directs and leads His children through this confusing place.  

    As a pilot would steer a ship, God steers the ship of life, the ship of this world that only He has created.  Thus the speaker appeals to God for an answer to her question, is there anywhere that can offer peace to the poor soul who must navigate the churning waters of this world?

    Second Movement:  Where Peace Reigns Supreme

    In the second stanza, the speaker shifts from the supplicant to the Blessèd Creator, Who bestows on the questioner the answer to her question.  The storm is over where peace reigns supreme.  Metaphorically, the speaker chooses to locate the peaceful place in the “west,” likely to rime it with “rest.”  

    In that peaceful west, one can cease the constant struggle with the dualities of this world.  One can feel secure with “anchors fast,” unlike the constant heaving and tossing back and forth that the rough sea causes.  The sails can be lowered and remain in that position because the journey has reached its destination.

    The piloting Creator then assures His traveling, storm-tossed child that, in fact, He is taking her there as she speaks.  The words, “Thither I pilot thee,” must ring in the ears of this supplicant as a true balm of heaven, comforting her every nervous inclination; she knows that she is safe with this “Pilot,” Who knows where to take her and is piloting her there now.

    Then suddenly, the coveted land is in sight and the land is “Eternity.”  The speaker now knows she is being guided safely and surely through her life by the One, Who can take her “ashore” and keep her secure throughout eternity.  Immortality is hers and peace will be her existence in this eternal resting place where the soul resides with its Divine Over-Soul Creator.

  • Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s Sonnet 43 “How do I love thee? Let me count the ways”

    Image: Elizabeth Barrett Browning – Engraving from original Painting by Chappel, 1872. (Photo by: Universal History Archive/Universal Images Group via Getty Images)

    Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s Sonnet 43 “How do I love thee? Let me count the ways

    The sonnet “How do I love thee? Let me count the ways”—number 43 in Sonnets from the Portuguese—remains the most famous and widely read sonnet of the sequence.  The speaker is offering a summary of all the ways she has come to love her soon to be husband.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 43 “How do I love thee? Let me count the ways”

    Sonnet 43 “How do I love thee?  Let me count the ways” is the most widely anthologized sonnet from Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s sequence titled Sonnets from the Portuguese. It is likely the many high school or college graduates remember that line but may have remained unaware that it is only #43 from its accompanying sequence of 43 other sonnets.  

    The sonnet is a Petrarchan sonnet as are all of the other sonnets in the sequence.  In the octave, the speaker is musing about how much she loves her belovèd suitor, and she asks the question, “How do I love thee?” 

    Then the speaker proceeds to answer the question, so the reader becomes aware that the speaker is not literally addressing her belovèd, but she is addressing the thought or perhaps even an image of that belovèd.  In the sestet, the speaker counts three definite ways and one possible way that she will love him throughout eternity.

    Sonnet 43 “H0w do I love thee? Let me count the ways”

    How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
    I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
    My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
    For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
    I love thee to the level of everyday’s Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
    I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
    I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
    I love thee with the passion put to use
    In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
    With my lost saints,—I love thee with the breath,
    Smiles, tears, of all my life!—and, if God choose,
    I shall but love thee better after death.

    Commentary on Sonnet 43 “How do I love thee? Let me count the ways”  

    Sonnet 43 “How do I love thee? Let me count the ways” remains the most famous and widely read sonnet of the sequence.

    First Quatrain:  An Emphatic Rhetorical Question

    How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
    I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
    My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
    For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.

    The speaker asks an obvious rhetorical question that requires only her feeling to fill out; thus she continues, “Let me count the ways.” She loves him with all her soul, as that soul strives for an idealism that has to be left up to faith.  The soul searches in all directions through “depth and breadth and height” for this idealism, which this speaker calls “the ends of Being and ideal Grace.”

    Second Quatrain:  Love and All Levels

    I love thee to the level of everyday’s Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
    I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
    I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.

    The speaker has begun with the sublime, ethereal level of her love by invoking how she loves her belovèd on the spiritual level.  The speaker then brings herself quickly back to the mundane activities of daily life by saying that another way she loves him is through even the smallest daily act whether that act is performed during the daylight hours or during the night, “by sun and candle-light.”

    The speaker then asserts that her love for her belovèd is spontaneous and “freely” given; therefore, she loves him in the way humankind loves freedom and acts correctly in striving to secure and maintain that freedom. She then claims that her love is as pure as those who are humble when praised.  In the octave, the speaker has signified four ways she loves her belovèd: spiritually, materially, “freely,” and “purely.”

    First Tercet:   All Encompassing Love

    I love thee with the passion put to use
    In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose

    The speaker loves him with the same ardor that used to grip her when she faced difficulties, but this “passion” is tempered by the fact that that love is also similar to the love that childhood provided her, an opposite kind of emotion from the one that caused her “old griefs.”  This love includes the polar opposites of fear and love, with love tempering the fear in a balanced and useful way.

    The speaker also loves her belovèd life mate with a kind of respect and admiration that she thought she had outgrown; this group of people could be a fairly large one, including friends, teachers, relatives, and even religious “saints,” the term she uses.  But the key word is that she “seemed” to lose this love, but with her belovèd suitor, that love is returned to her.

    Second Tercet:   Love unto Eternity

    With my lost saints,—I love thee with the breath,
    Smiles, tears, of all my life!—and, if God choose,
    I shall but love thee better after death.

    The next way she loves her belovèd she asserts in a breathless, almost ecstatic pronouncement: “— I love thee with the breath, / Smiles, tears, of all my life! —.”  Placed between dashes, these terms then signal an emphasis of expression.

    This assertion captures the excitement and underscores the passion in the speaker’s claim, while it prepares the reader or listener, for the last breathtaking claim that, “if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.”

    So in the sestet, the speaker again professes four ways in which she loves the belovèd: with a passion of meeting former challenges but tempered by a childlike faith, with a kind of love she thought she had lost, and with her whole being.  But most importantly for this speaker, she has faith that she will love this belovèd soul mate eternally.

  • Breaking the Coffee Habit:  A Devotee’s Reflection in the Spirit of Paramahansa Yogananda

    Image:  Created by Gemini inspired by the essay

    Breaking the Coffee Habit:  A Devotee’s Reflection in the Spirit of Paramahansa Yogananda

    The soul is ever-free. It is deathless because it is birthless. It cannot be regimented by the stars.”—Paramahansa Yogananda in Autobiography of a Yogi

    There is a light within  each human being that has never dimmed. It shone before your first sip of coffee and will blaze undimmed long after the last cup is set aside. This light is no fleeting glow borrowed from caffeine—it is the eternal flame of the Atman, the divine Self that the great guru Paramahansa Yogananda (Guruji*) devoted his life to revealing.

    Though the soul itself remains ever-free—untouched by birth, death, or any compulsion—it is the mind, clouded by identification with the physical encasement (body), that feels bound. To release the subtle dependency on caffeine is to loosen the mind’s grip on external props, allowing the soul’s innate radiance to shine through unobstructed.

    Liberation:  Practicing Non-Attachment

    Paramahansa Yogananda taught that the spiritual path is, at its essence, liberation from all bondages. Every habit, however mild, forms an invisible chain that restrains the mind’s will and veils the soul’s bliss. Vairagya—non-attachment—was for him not austere denial but a joyful turning toward God, peeling away artificial stimulations so the natural joy of the soul might emerge.

    The morning reach for coffee whispers to the mind: “You are not enough. You need something outside to awaken, to be alert, to live.” Each conscious choice to set the cup aside answers with the authority of the Self (Soul): “I am sufficient. God’s energy sustains me. I need nothing but the Infinite.”

    In this small act of detachment lies a direct practice of the renunciation Guruji praised as the foundation of lasting happiness. (See his “How to Free Yourself from Bad Habits” in The Divine Romance.)

    Prana: The Divine Source of Vitality

    Guruji offered his disciples something far more potent than any earthly brew: the science of prana, the cosmic life-force that animates all creation, the very breath of God flowing through every cell.  Through his Energization Exercises, Hong-Sau and Om Techniques, and Kriya Yoga, he showed how to draw consciously upon this inexhaustible, cosmic vitality. 

    Caffeine provides only borrowed energy—stimulating yet depleting, agitating the nerves, inflaming emotions, and leaving behind the fatigue it momentarily masked. Prana, in contrast, restores, regenerates, and uplifts without rebound.  To detach from caffeine is to make space for this greater gift. It is to declare to the Universe: “I am ready to receive Thine energy directly, without the veil of stimulants.” 

    Those who meditate deeply know the truth from experience: after genuine stillness comes an alertness and joy no cup could produce—a clear, steady luminosity of mind that calms rather than jangles, sustains without craving, and reveals the ever-new bliss of Sat-Chit-Ananda.  What the mind once sought clumsily in a morning ritual was always a veiled longing for this divine state—available within, waiting to be claimed.

    The Will: God’s Greatest Gift to the Mind

    Yoganandaji held the human will in profound reverence as the soul’s instrument for mastery over body and senses. The greater the will, the greater the flow of energy. Every victory over a habit strengthens this divine faculty; every surrender dulls it.

    Guruji recommends beginning with small disciplines, sustained with determination and devotion, for such discipline burns away dependency and forges the will in purifying fire. Yet he was ever tender and non-judgmental, counseling patience, humor, and prayer in moments of weakness. 

    When craving arises, sit quietly, breathe deeply, and inwardly call: “Divine Mother, fill me now with Your energy.” To transcend through such prayer is genuine alchemy—the mind’s transformation by grace.

    The Body as Temple: Cultivating Sattva

    Guruji regarded the physical encasement as a sacred temple hosting the soul for its earthly evolution. He guided toward sattvic living—purity, clarity, lightness—in diet, habits, and rest, while cautioning against rajasic influences that stir restlessness.

    Caffeine, by its stimulating nature, is rajasic: it agitates the nervous system, disrupts emotional balance, and creates cycles of artificial highs and lows that hamper meditation and obscure the still, small voice within. 

    Letting go that stimulant honors the temple’s potential for steadiness. Devotees who make this shift often marvel at the results: moods even out, sleep deepens, morning meditation quiets, and the mind settles into God’s intended rhythm—where inner hearing becomes clear and natural.

    Sacred Tradition: Offering Love to the Guru

    In the sacred tradition of discipleship, giving up a cherished habit becomes an act of devotion—an offering laid at the Guru’s feet. It says, “I trust Thy guidance more than this craving.” Guruji taught that the Guru cherishes not perfection but sincere effort, the heart’s turning.  (See “The Bad Man Who Was Preferred by God)

    Each morning that you choose prana over stimulation, stillness over restlessness, the soul’s light over borrowed brightness, you place another garland before Guruji. In the silent ways of the Guru-disciple bond, he receives it and strengthens you for the next choice.  Devotees quickly learn that by the grace of the Guru, all difficulties are resolved and all good things are possible.

    A Personal Quip: My Quest for God

    Since March 1978, I have walked this path charted by my Guru Paramahansa Yogananda and his organization Self-Realization Fellowship—meditating, praying, serving, studying under Guruji’s grace. I have made my humble attempts to offer as much as possible to this quest for God.

    This one small, sacred surrender—to free my mind from yet another veil of dependency—lies well within my power. The same will that drew me to my Guru’s feet can gently break this last chain, allowing fuller realization of my ever-free soul.

    I must follow this sacred path with greater trust and faith.  I must strengthen it daily in meditation. I must know with certainty: the bliss tasted in my deepest meditations is the immortal energy that will sustain me and transform every craving into quiet, unshakable joy. The light within needs no fuel but God, the Divine Stimulant. 

    O Divine Belovèd!  Let my mind’s clouds part, and let the light shine free.

    —————

    *Guruji is the reverential appellation that devotees use in addressing or referring to their beloved Guru; this is the appellation I personally prefer.  Other devotees prefer referring to Paramahansa Yogananda as Master, who was and is the master over his human and divine Self.

  • Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s Sonnet 20 “Beloved, my Beloved, when I think”

    Image:  Robert Browning visits Elizabeth Barrett at 50 Wimpole Street painting by Celestial Images

    Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s Sonnet 20 “Beloved, my Beloved, when I think”

    Sonnet 20 “Beloved, my Beloved, when I think” from Sonnets from the Portuguese finds the speaker in a pensive mood, dramatizing her awe at the difference a year has made in her life.

    Introduction with Text of Sonnet 20 “Beloved, my Beloved, when I think”

    The speaker in Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s sonnet 20 “Beloved, my Beloved, when I think” from Sonnets from the Portuguese remembers that just year ago she would not have been able to imagine that a love relationship with someone so important as her belovèd would break the chains of sorrow with which she has been bound for many years.

    This sonnet finds the speaker in a pensive mood, dramatizing her awe at the difference a year has made in her life.  The speaker is gaining confidence in her ability to attract and return the kind of love that she has yearned for but heretofore considered herself unworthy of possessing. 

    Sonnet 20 “Beloved, my Beloved, when I think”

    Beloved, my Beloved, when I think
    That thou wast in the world a year ago,
    What time I sate alone here in the snow
    And saw no footprint, heard the silence sink
    No moment at thy voice … but, link by link,
    Went counting all my chains, as if that so
    They never could fall off at any blow
    Struck by thy possible hand … why, thus I drink
    Of life’s great cup of wonder! Wonderful,
    Never to feel thee thrill the day or night
    With personal act or speech,—nor ever cull
    Some prescience of thee with the blossoms white
    Thou sawest growing! Atheists are as dull,
    Who cannot guess God’s presence out of sight.

    Commentary on Sonnet 20 “Beloved, my Beloved, when I think”

    Sonnet 20 “Beloved, my Beloved, when I think” finds the speaker in a pensive mood, dramatizing her awe at the difference a year has made in her life.

    First Quatrain:  The Difference a Year Makes

    Beloved, my Beloved, when I think
    That thou wast in the world a year ago,
    What time I sate alone here in the snow
    And saw no footprint, heard the silence sink 

    The speaker is reminiscing about her feelings “a year ago” before she had met her belovèd. She sat watching the snow that remained without his “footprint.” The silence surrounding her lingered without her hearing his voice. The speaker is structuring her remarks in when/then clauses; she will be saying, “when” this was true, “then” something else was true.

    In the first quatrain, she is thus beginning her clause with “when I think” and what she is thinking about is the time before her belovèd and she had met. She continues the “when” clause until the last line of the second quatrain.

    Second Quatrain:  Never to be Broken Chains

    No moment at thy voice … but, link by link,
    Went counting all my chains, as if that so
    They never could fall off at any blow
    Struck by thy possible hand … why, thus I drink 

    Continuing to recount what she did and how she felt before her ne love came into her life, she reminds her audience that she was bound by “all my chains” which she “went counting” and believing would never be broken.  The speaker makes it clear that her belovèd has, in fact, been responsible for breaking those chains of pain and sorrow that kept her bound and weeping.

    The speaker then moves into the “then” construction, averring that the arrival of her belovèd is, indeed, the reason that she can now look on the world as a place “of wonder.”  At this point, she is simply experiencing the awe of wonder that she should be so fortunate to have her belovèd strike those metaphorical blows against the chains of sorrow that kept her in misery.

    First Tercet:  Near Incredulous

    Of life’s great cup of wonder! Wonderful,
    Never to feel thee thrill the day or night
    With personal act or speech,—nor ever cull 

    The speaker then expounds on what she had not been able to foretell as she remained unable to experience the joy and thrill of living that her belovèd has now afforded her through his acts of kindness and his verbal expressions of affection.  The speaker is nearly incredulous that she could have remained without the love that has become so important to her.

    Second Tercet:  Dull as Atheists

    Some prescience of thee with the blossoms white
    Thou sawest growing! Atheists are as dull,
    Who cannot guess God’s presence out of sight.

    The speaker adds another part of her astonishing “wonder”: that she was not able to sense that such a being might actually be living and amenable to having a relationship with her.  She feels that she should have had some inkling of awareness that such might be the case.

    She sees now that she was “as dull” as “atheists,” those unimaginative souls, “who cannot guess God’s presence out of sight.”   The speaker’s belovèd is such a marvelous work of nature that she imbues him with a certain divine stature, and she considers herself somewhat “dull” for not being about to guess that such a one existed. 

    As atheists are unable to surmise of Supreme Intelligence guiding the ordered cosmos, she was incapable of imagining that one such as her belovèd would come along and free her from her self-induced coma of sadness.

  • Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s Sonnet 6  “Go from me. Yet I feel that I shall stand”

    Image: Elizabeth Barrett Browning – Getty Images

    Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s Sonnet 6  “Go from me. Yet I feel that I shall stand”

    Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s sonnet 6 is a clever seduction sonnet; as the speaker seems to be giving the suitor every reason to leave her, she is also giving him very good reasons to remain.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 6  “Go from me. Yet I feel that I shall stand”

    Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s sonnet 6 from Sonnets from the Portuguese may be thought of as the seeming reversal of a seduction theme.  At first the speaker seems to be dismissing her lover.  But as she continues, she shows just how close they already are.

    The speaker’s revelation that he will always be with her, even though she has sent him away from the relationship, is bolstered by many instances of intensity that is surely meant to keep the love attracted instead of repelling him.

    Sonnet 6  “Go from me. Yet I feel that I shall stand”

    Go from me. Yet I feel that I shall stand
    Hence forward in thy shadow. Nevermore
    Alone upon the threshold of my door
    Of individual life, I shall command
    The uses of my soul, nor lift my hand
    Serenely in the sunshine as before,
    Without the sense of that which I forbore—
    Thy touch upon the palm. The widest land
    Doom takes to part us, leaves thy heart in mine
    With pulses that beat double. What I do
    And what I dream include thee, as the wine
    Must taste of its own grapes. And when I sue
    God for myself, He hears that name of thine,
    And sees within my eyes the tears of two.

    Reading:  

    Commentary on Sonnet 6 “Go from me. Yet I feel that I shall stand”

    This sonnet is a clever seduction sonnet; as the speaker seems to be giving the suitor every reason to leave her, she is also giving him very good reasons that they should remain together.

    She is always trying to convince herself more than her suitor, for she already intuits that he believes their union is meant to be.  He knows the depth of his love for her. But she must convince herself that that depth is genuine.

    First Quatrain:  No Equal Partnership

    Go from me. Yet I feel that I shall stand
    Hence forward in thy shadow. Nevermore
    Alone upon the threshold of my door
    Of individual life, I shall command

    In Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s sonnet 6 from Sonnets from the Portuguese, the speaker is commanding her beloved to leave her.  As she has protested in earlier sonnets, she does not believe she is equal to his stature, and such a match could not withstand the scrutiny of their class society. 

    But the clever speaker also hastens to add that his spirit will always remain with her, and she will henceforth be “[n]evermore / Alone upon the threshold of my door / Of individual life.”

    That the speaker once met and touched one so esteemed will continue to play as a presence in her mind and heart.  She is grateful for the opportunity just to have briefly known him, but she cannot presume that they could have a permanent relationship.

    Second Quatrain:  Never to Forget

    The uses of my soul, nor lift my hand
    Serenely in the sunshine as before,
    Without the sense of that which I forbore—
    Thy touch upon the palm. The widest land

    The speaker continues the thought that her beloved’s presence will remain with her as she commands her own soul’s activities.  Even as she may “lift [her] hand” and view it in the sunlight, she will be reminded that a wonderful man once held it and touched “the palm.”

    The speaker has married herself so securely to her beloved’s essence that she avows that she cannot henceforth be without him.  As she attempts to convince herself that such a life will suffice, she also attempts to convince her beloved that they are already inseparable.

    First Tercet:  Metaphysically Together Always

    Doom takes to part us, leaves thy heart in mine
    With pulses that beat double. What I do
    And what I dream include thee, as the wine

    No matter how far apart the two may travel, no matter how many miles the landscape “doom[s]” them to separation, their two hearts will forever beat together, as “pulses that beat double.” 

    Everything she does in future will include him, and in her every dream, he will appear.  She is binding them together on the metaphysical level, where such bonds can never be broken, as they can on the physical level of being.

    Second Tercet:  Prayers That Include Her Beloved

    Must taste of its own grapes. And when I sue
    God for myself, He hears that name of thine,
    And sees within my eyes the tears of two.

    They will be a union as close as grapes and wine: “as the wine / / Must taste of its own grapes.” Her juxtaposition of wine and tears becomes symbolic of their liquid love, running together as any stream to the sea.

    And when she supplicates to God, she will always include the name of her beloved. She will never be able to pray only for herself but will always pray for him as well. And when the speaker sheds tears before God, she will be shedding “the tears of two.”  In her spiritual life, the two are already bound together.

    Her life will be so bound together with her beloved that there is no need for him to remain with her physically, and she has given reasons that he should depart and not feel any pangs of sorrow for her. 

    In fact, he will not be leaving her if they are so closely united already.  They can never be parted despite any measure of physical distance. While the speaker seems to be giving the suitor every opportunity to leave her by exaggerating their union, her pleadings also reveal that she is giving him every reason to remain with her. 

    If they are already as close and wine and grapes, and she adores him so greatly as to continue to remember that he touched her palm, such strong love and adoration would be difficult to turn down.

    Despite the class differences that superficially separate them, the speaker must somehow come to understand that their parting is not an option.  The metaphysical level of being must be explored for the sake of reality.

  • Brad McClain’s “Cowboy Christmas”

    Image: Merry Christmas  – Art by Tyler Crow, used by permission

    From an internet site dedicated to his Christian faith and affinity for cowboy culture God’s Horseback Gospel, Brad McClain’s “Cowboy Christmas” celebrates the congeniality of friends gathering to observe the Christmas season.  It offers the traditional energy and fun-loving atmosphere of most cowboy Christmas poetry.

    The two prose pieces following the poem further extend the faithful worship included in Mr. McClain’s purpose for creating his webpage—to glorify God and introduce others to a kind of spiritual awakening that they may not have known existed.

    Brad McClain’s “Cowboy Christmas”

    A countrified tradition,
    Was part of yester-year,
    When the cowboys’ main ambition,
    Was to spread some Christmas cheer.

    The ranch folk friend and families,
    Would come from far and wide,
    Trottin’ through the winter breeze,
    On Christmas Eve they’d ride.

    For food and fun and merriment,
    Twin fiddles filled the air,
    And everyone’s so glad they went,
    And goodwill everywhere.

    Kids a’chasin’ kids around,
    Oldsters smile and wave,
    All the festive sights and sounds,
    And a cowboy gettin’ brave,

    Enough to ask that gal to dance,
    And of course she says she will,
    He never thought he had a chance,
    And if a look could kill,

    Her Daddy watches carefully,
    He remembers to that age,
    Her mama takes it prayerfully,
    It helps her fear assuage.

    But nothin’ like a Christmas waltz,
    And nothin’ like young love,
    And nobody is findin’ faults,
    And lots to be proud of.

    And when the egg nog’s mostly gone,
    And the kids are ‘bout asleep,
    The hugs and handshakes linger long,
    And the night is gettin’ deep,

    And then all head for hearth and home,
    They jingle all the way,
    Snow drifts ‘cross the sandy loam,
    And soon comes Christmas Day.

    The evening wanes, kids tucked in bed,
    Gifts set beneath the tree,
    Stockings filled all green and red,
    A prayer for you and me.

    The Cowboy Christmas, all are blessed,
    Praise for the Savior’s birth,
    God gave to each His gracious rest,
    Good will and peace on earth.

    “Praise the Lord, the God of Israel, because He has visited and redeemed His people.  He has sent us a mighty Savior from the royal line of His servant David.” (Luke 1:68-69, NLT)

    Christmas is a festival of praise.  All the fun, food, music, lights and fellowship are because God has given us His greatest give- the Savior!  God has always been the One who saves, but now the ultimate salvation has entered the world and for one reason- to save that which is lost.  How sad that some of those who need it the most seem to feel it the least.  And how wonderful it is when someone discovers the love that meets them exactly where they are in order to take them where they have always should have been!  The devil lies when he claims to have the best party.  Jesus is the Lord of the dance and it’s time we put aside our fickleness and followed Him.  Christmas is a good time to get the party started!

  • S. Omar Barker’s “A Cowboy’s Christmas Prayer”

    Image:  S. Omar Barker – Texas Trail of Fame

    S. Omar Barker’s “A Cowboy’s Christmas Prayer”

    S. Omar Barker’s Christmas poem “A Cowboy’s Christmas Prayer” features a humble cowpoke, who is not accustomed to praying but is offering his heart-felt supplication at Christmas time.  As he prays, he reveals the qualities and issues of his life that are most important to him.

    Introduction with Text of “A Cowboy’s Christmas Prayer”

    This Christmas prayer/poem composed by cowboy poet, S. Omar Barker, allows a humble rider-of-the-range to express his deeply held wishes as he offers a supplication to the Lord for the good of all mankind.  The cowboy prayer is framed as a ballad-style narration emphasizing the simple, humble nature of the cowpoke.

    The ballad-influenced piece plays out in cowboy dialect and  in riming couplets.  Its stanza breaks are uneven with two single-line bridges that dissect the drama at important points to emphasize the shift in theme and tone.

    A Cowboy’s Christmas Prayer

    I ain’t much good at prayin’, and You may not know me, Lord —
    For I ain’t much seen in churches, where they preach Thy Holy Word.
    But you may have observed me out here on the lonely plains,
    A-lookin’ after cattle, feelin’ thankful when it rains.

    Admirin’ Thy great handiwork.

    The miracle of the grass,
    Aware of Thy kind Spirit, in the way it comes to pass
    That hired men on horseback and the livestock that we tend
    Can look up at the stars at night, and know we’ve got a Friend.

    So here’s ol’ Christmas comin’ on, remindin’ us again
    Of Him whose coming brought good will into the hearts of men.
    A cowboy ain’t a preacher, Lord, but if You’ll hear my prayer,
    I’ll ask as good as we have got for all men everywhere

    Don’t let no hearts be bitter, Lord.
    Don’t let no child be cold.
    Make easy the beds for them that’s sick and them that’s weak and old.
    Let kindness bless the trail we ride, no matter what we’re after,
    And sorter keep us on Your side, in tears as well as laughter.

    I’ve seen ol’ cows a-starvin’ — and it ain’t no happy sight;
    Please don’t leave no one hungry, Lord, on Thy Good Christmas Night —
    No man, no child, no woman, and no critter on four feet
    I’ll do my doggone best to help you find ’em chuck to eat.

    I’m just a sinful cowpoke, Lord — ain’t got no business prayin’
    But still I hope you’ll ketch a word or two, of what I’m sayin’:
    We speak of Merry Christmas, Lord—

    I reckon You’ll agree —

    There ain’t no Merry Christmas for nobody that ain’t free!
    So one thing more I ask You, Lord: just help us what You can
    To save some seeds of freedom for the future Sons of Man!

    Reading

    Commentary on “A Cowboy’s Christmas Prayer”

    S. Omar Barker’s “A Cowboy’s Christmas Prayer” dramatizes the prayer offered by a humble cowboy who is unaccustomed to praying and unacquainted with church services but who holds the blessings from the Creator very dear to his heart.  He expresses his gratitude for the simple life he lives and asks his Creator to bless others with kindness and prosperity.

    First Movement:  A Humble Prayer

    I ain’t much good at prayin’, and You may not know me, Lord —
    For I ain’t much seen in churches, where they preach Thy Holy Word.
    But you may have observed me out here on the lonely plains,
    A-lookin’ after cattle, feelin’ thankful when it rains.

    In the first quatrain, the supplicating cowboy begins by addressing the Lord, suggesting that the Lord may not even be acquainted with the cowboy; he then gives the reasons that he feels the Lord may not know him.  He has not attended church very often, and he knows that’s where they preach His “Holy Word.”

    However, the cowboy then suggests that perhaps the Creator has seen him out on the plains doing his work of watching “after cattle.”  The cowboy adds what he likely feels may be a useful introduction to the Lord Creator:  he has felt thankful for the rain that keeps life supported.

    Second Movement:  A Single-Line Bridge

    Admirin’ Thy great handiwork.

    The cowboy adds another positive feature in his heretofore somewhat tentative relationship with the Almighty: he has always admired the “great handiwork” that he often observes as he rides the range in the great outdoors.

    This line appears alone and emphasizes the important idea that the cowboy has always kept the Creator near to his heart by feeling enthralled by all of what He has created.  The cowboy is likely remembering the wide-open plains, the mountains, the trees, vegetation of the prairie, the night sky full of stars, and the cattle that he himself drives and protects. 

    This single line offers a useful bridge between the moments of prayer that supplicates, as it brings the Divine back into the cowboy’s consciousness.

    Third Movement:   Miracles in Creation

    The miracle of the grass,
    Aware of Thy kind Spirit, in the way it comes to pass
    That hired men on horseback and the livestock that we tend
    Can look up at the stars at night, and know we’ve got a Friend.

    The next quatrain offers a few specific examples of the great Lord’s “handiwork.”  The cowboy first mentions the grass, which he describes as a “miracle.”  He then avers that even as a simply cowpoke he feels the nature of the Lord is kindness.

    And through that “kind Spirit,” he reports that somehow the graceful occasion exists that those hired hands who work riding horseback and tending livestock are able to observe the sky full of “stars at night.”

    The cowboy makes it clear that such a sight fills his heart with gratitude that he and his fellow workers “got a Friend.”  His relationship with the Lord has blossomed even as he admits his tentative relationship with church and prayer.

    Fourth Movement:  Good Will

    So here’s ol’ Christmas comin’ on, remindin’ us again
    Of Him whose coming brought good will into the hearts of men.
    A cowboy ain’t a preacher, Lord, but if You’ll hear my prayer,
    I’ll ask as good as we have got for all men everywhere.

    Likely the coming of the season of Christmas has been the impetus for the cowboy to be offering this halting prayer.  So he now tells the Lord that the coming of Christmas has reminded him of Jesus the Christ, Who “brought good will” into men’s hearts.

    Even though he “ain’t a preacher,” the cowboy expresses the hope that the Lord will still hear his prayer.  He promises to supplicate for the “good” of everyone everywhere.  He wishes that all men may be as blessed as he his.  His gratitude keeps his own heart open to the Lord’s grace.

    Fifth Movement:  Prayer of a Simple Soul

    Don’t let no hearts be bitter, Lord.
    Don’t let no child be cold.
    Make easy the beds for them that’s sick and them that’s weak and old.
    Let kindness bless the trail we ride, no matter what we’re after,
    And sorter keep us on Your side, in tears as well as laughter.

    In the next cinquain, the speaker offers a catalogue of blessings that he wishes to ask of the Lord.  He asks that no bitterness reside in the hearts of men, as he asks that “no child be cold.”  

    He asks the Lord comfort those who are ill and make their convalescence go smoothly.  He also wish ease and comfort for those who are old and weak.  He asks kind-heartedness remain a feature of the “trail we ride.” He then asks the Creator to keep humanity on His side throughout good times as well as bad times.

    Sixth Movement:  Praying for Others’ Welfare

    I’ve seen ol’ cows a-starvin’ — and it ain’t no happy sight;
    Please don’t leave no one hungry, Lord, on Thy Good Christmas Night —
    No man, no child, no woman, and no critter on four feet
    I’ll do my doggone best to help you find ’em chuck to eat.

    Returning to the quatrain-form for the sixth movement, the speaker focuses on hunger; he has observed cows that are starving to death, and that sight weighs heavily on his heart and mind; thus, he begs the Lord to “leave no one hungry.” 

    This deprivation is so important to him that he asks that “no man, no child, no woman” be allowed to go hungry.  But he also wants the Lord to protect all animals from the fate of hunger.  He then promises to help the Lord in finding food for all who are hungry.

    Seventh Movement:  Self-Deprecation 

    I’m just a sinful cowpoke, Lord — ain’t got no business prayin’
    But still I hope you’ll ketch a word or two, of what I’m sayin’:
    We speak of Merry Christmas, Lord—

    In the next tercet, the cowboy again engages in self-deprecation, saying he is “just a sinful cowpoke” and he does not deserve to be “prayin’.”  Still, he expresses the hope that the Creator will hear at least “a word or two” of his prayer.  

    The cowboy/speaker then begins a thought which is so important that he offers merely the opening of it, allowing its conclusion to spread over another bridge and into the final tercet.  He begins by reporting that “[w]e speak of Merry Christmas, Lord—.”

    Eighth Movement:  Agreement with His Lord

    I reckon You’ll agree —

    The speaker then creates a second bridge between thoughts.  This time he inserts the important notion he thinks the Lord will agree with what he is about to propose. By beginning the thought in the conclusion of the seventh movement, allowing it to marinate through the eighth bridge movement, he has created a small mystery that emphasizes the utterly vital importance of his final thought.

    Ninth Movement:  Freedom Is Vital

    There ain’t no Merry Christmas for nobody that ain’t free!
    So one thing more I ask You, Lord: just help us what You can
    To save some seeds of freedom for the future Sons of Man!

    Finally, the cowboy issues his important claim before God and world that the most important possession that mankind must retain is “freedom.”  There can be no “Merry Christmas” unless humanity is free to enjoy it; no happiness can exists for any individual “that ain’t free!”

    Thus, the cowboy’s final supplication is that the Lord “save some seeds of freedom for the future Sons of Man!”  He asks his Creator to allow the love and hope of freedom to grow with mankind in all lands for all time.

  • Badger Clark’s “A Cowboy’s Prayer”

    Image: Badger Clark

    Badger Clark’s “A Cowboy’s Prayer”

    Badger Clark’s ballad consists of four riming octets, nostalgically dramatizing a celebration of his gratitude to God for his way of life.

    Introduction and Text of “A Cowboy’s Prayer”

    Badger Clark’s “A Cowboy’s Prayer” with the subtitle “Written for Mother”offers a prayer that would make any mother proud, as he celebrates his free lifestyle of living on the open range. Each octet stanza features the rime scheme ABABCDCD. This Badger classic was first published in  The Pacific Monthly, in December of 1906.

    About this poem/prayer, Katie Lee writes in her classic history of cowboy songs and poems starkly titled Ten Thousand Goddam Cattle, A History of the American Cowboy in Song, Story, and Verse, “The language is true to his free-roving spirit and gives insight to the code he lived by the things he expected of himself.”

    A Cowboy’s Prayer

    (Written for Mother)

    Oh Lord, I’ve never lived where churches grow.
    I love creation better as it stood
    That day You finished it so long ago
    And looked upon Your work and called it good.
    I know that others find You in the light
    That’s sifted down through tinted window panes,
    And yet I seem to feel You near tonight
    In this dim, quiet starlight on the plains. 

    I thank You, Lord, that I am placed so well,
    That You have made my freedom so complete;
    That I’m no slave of whistle, clock or bell,
    Nor weak-eyed prisoner of wall and street.
    Just let me live my life as I’ve begun
    And give me work that’s open to the sky;
    Make me a pardner of the wind and sun,
    And I won’t ask a life that’s soft or high.

    Let me be easy on the man that’s down;
    Let me be square and generous with all.
    I’m careless sometimes, Lord, when I’m in town,
    But never let ’em say I’m mean or small!
    Make me as big and open as the plains,
    As honest as the hawse between my knees,
    Clean as the wind that blows behind the rains,
    Free as the hawk that circles down the breeze!

    Forgive me, Lord, if sometimes I forget.
    You know about the reasons that are hid.
    You understand the things that gall and fret;
    You know me better than my mother did.
    Just keep an eye on all that’s done and said
    And right me, sometimes, when I turn aside,
    And guide me on the long, dim, trail ahead
    That stretches upward toward the Great Divide.

    Clark’s “A Cowboy’s Prayer”

    Commentary on “A Cowboy’s Prayer”

    This poem, written in the traditional ballad form, reveals a grateful cowboy, who loves his rustic way of life and gives thanks for God for it. 

    First Stanza:  Addressing the Lord

    Oh Lord, I’ve never lived where churches grow.
    I love creation better as it stood
    That day You finished it so long ago
    And looked upon Your work and called it good.
    I know that others find You in the light
    That’s sifted down through tinted window panes,
    And yet I seem to feel You near tonight
    In this dim, quiet starlight on the plains. 

    The speaker begins his payer by addressing the Lord, telling Him that he has never been one to attend church, because “[he’s]  never lived where churches grow.” But he admits that he loves creation just as the Lord finished it before mankind began to build things.

    The speaker then confides that while others may find the Lord “in the light that is sifted down through tinted window panes,” he feels Him near, “In this dim, quiet starlight on the plains.” The speaker wants to assure the Divine that despite his absence from houses of worship, he worships without a house while simply stationed out on the open plains created by the Great Creator.

    Second Stanza:  Thanking the Lord

    I thank You, Lord, that I am placed so well,
    That You have made my freedom so complete;
    That I’m no slave of whistle, clock or bell,
    Nor weak-eyed prisoner of wall and street.
    Just let me live my life as I’ve begun
    And give me work that’s open to the sky;
    Make me a pardner of the wind and sun,
    And I won’t ask a life that’s soft or high.

    The speaker offers his heartfelt gratitude to the Lord for his blessings. He is especially grateful that the Lord has made “[his] freedom so complete.” He then catalogues the places where he would not feel so free, places where he would have to heed the call “of whistle, clock or bell.”

    He asks the Lord to continue blessing him this way: “Just let me live my life as I’ve begun / And give me work that’s open to the sky.” He avers that he will not ever be asking “for a life that’s soft or high.”

    Third Stanza:  Praying for Wisdom

    Let me be easy on the man that’s down;
    Let me be square and generous with all.
    I’m careless sometimes, Lord, when I’m in town,
    But never let ’em say I’m mean or small!
    Make me as big and open as the plains,
    As honest as the hawse between my knees,
    Clean as the wind that blows behind the rains,
    Free as the hawk that circles down the breeze!

    The speaker then asks for the guidance and wisdom to treat other people with respect and honor. He admits that sometimes he is careless, especially when he is in town. But he asks that he never be mean or small. He wants others to think well of him because he behaves properly.

    The speaker asks for three things, honesty, cleanliness, and freedom. Thus, he asks the Lord to make him,  “As honest as the hawse between my knees, / Clean as the wind that blows behind the rains, / Free as the hawk that circles down the breeze!”

    Fourth Stanza:  Praying for Guidance

    Forgive me, Lord, if sometimes I forget.
    You know about the reasons that are hid.
    You understand the things that gall and fret;
    You know me better than my mother did.
    Just keep an eye on all that’s done and said
    And right me, sometimes, when I turn aside,
    And guide me on the long, dim, trail ahead
    That stretches upward toward the Great Divide.

    Again, the speaker acknowledges that he is not perfect, that at times he forgets proper behavior. He admits that he does not know all that God knows: “You know about the reasons that are hid.” And he declares that the Lord knows him “better than my mother did.”

    So the speaker asks God to guard and guide him by watching over him, and when he misbehaves, he begs the Lord to “right me, sometimes, when I turn aside.” He asks God to be with him as he moves “on the long, dim, trail ahead / That stretches up toward the Great Divide”. He masterly employs the metaphoric Great Divide to signal the afterworld as well as a great Western geological phenomenon.

    Image: Badger Clark