Linda's Literary Home

Tag: Jesus

  • Emily Dickinson’s “The Only News I know”

    Image: Emily Dickinson - Amherst College - Daguerrotype of the poet at age 17, circa 1847 - likely the only authentic, extant likeness of the poet
    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 “The Only News I know”

    In “The Only News I know,” Emily Dickinson creates a speaker who offers a glimpse at the poet’s satisfying daily existence.  She demonstrates how she keeps her consciousness focused only on things of the Divine Realm, thus, avoiding those of the mundane, vulgar, physical existence.

    Introduction with Text of  “The Only News I know”

    The reality of “the news” automatically holds all manner of things that have gone wrong during ordinary life.  Accidents, illness, murders, robberies, war, deceit, political intrigue all figure in the news reports that come to one daily.  

    While these topics tend to agitate, confuse, and sadden most folks who listen to “the news,” seldom does anyone offer an antidote to lessen the pain, frustration, confusion brought about by the bad news reports that accost the citizenry daily.

    Although Emily Dickinson’s poem, “The Only News I know,” is obviously an exaggeration, it, nevertheless, dramatizes the most important topics with which the poet likes to engage: immortality, eternity, and God.   She likes to engage and occupy her thinking and musing with ethereal places and events.  And this creative thinking easily replaces the mundane and vulgar events that daily hem one round.

    The physical world is such a cold and often desolate place for sensitive individuals and once those individuals acquire some inkling of a different world, a spiritual level of existence, or an astral world, they prefer it. 

    They inquire, read, and study about the possibility of a place where the soul lives on after it leaves the gross physical encasement.  Such a place offers the individual the opportunity to live more abundantly and completely without the trammels and trappings of earthly existence. 

    The thought of a “heaven” or an astral existence gives one hope that all the unseemly events reported in “the news” are only temporary and feature only a passing blight that the pure soul must put up with but only for a while.  While the physical reality is only temporary, the soul’s reality is permanent.

    Emily Dickinson’s “The Only News I Know” consists of four tercets, or three-line stanzas that examine the glorious possibility of living in a world of everlasting beauty, with an always blissful feeling, and ever-new joy. 

    Each tercet adheres to its own rime scheme: ABC, ABA, AAB, ABC. Each line displays six syllables, except for the final line in the final tercet, which yields only four syllables.  The four-syllable line gives the poem an abruptness that further enhances the meaning of the content: the speaker makes her claims in crispness and ends with a snap.

    The Only News I know

    The Only News I know
    Is Bulletins all Day
    From Immortality.

    The Only Shows I see  –
    Tomorrow and Today –
    Perchance Eternity –

    The Only One I meet
    Is God – The Only Street –
    Existence – This traversed

    If Other News there be –
    Or Admirabler Show –
    I’ll tell it You –

    Commentary on “The Only News I know”

    In this poem, Emily Dickinson has created a speaker who reports brief glimpses of what it is like to create a satisfying daily existence.   Instead of “bulletins” from news reports on daily misery, her bulletins come from a mystical place where only joy permeates the soul. 

    First Tercet:  Focus on the Spiritual  

    The Only News I know
    Is Bulletins all Day
    From Immortality.

    In the first stanza, the speaker asserts that the only information she recognizes is that which comes from “Immortality.” She claims that she receives brief news headlines during the whole day, implying that these brief reports come to her even as she is working. 

    This speaker is more interested in mystical, that is, spiritual awareness than she is in mundane earthly things.  Thus she can easily space out the mundane and fill it with ethereal blessings.

    Second Tercet:  A Permanent Frame of Mind  

    The Only Shows I see –
    Tomorrow and Today –
    Perchance Eternity –

    The speaker then avers that the only programs or performances she watches are those that pertain similarly to things and events that are everlastingly entertaining.   She then implies that the time frame in which she experiences these blessings is permanent. She leaves open some doubt by inserting the term “[p]erchance” likely only for the sake of skeptical listeners.

    It becomes clear that this speaker entertains no doubt about her claims regarding the landscape of the soul—those topics that obtain for “Immortality” and “Eternity.”   She is not so naïve as to believe that in the physical world these qualities hold fast.  

    If that were so, she would have no need to report on such beyond-earth loci.  She could go about simply revealing all the blessings she detects from earthly pleasures.   But because earthly paradise remains out of possibility, she has to report about mystical places with figurative language, including colorful images and metaphors.

    Third Tercet:   God Alone

    The Only One I meet
    Is God – The Only Street –
    Existence –This traversed

    The speaker then reveals her startling claim, as Dickinson speakers are often wont to do: “The Only One I meet / Is God.”   And instead of further drama or explication on meeting God, she rushes on mid-line to claim that the only path she travels is that of “Existence.” This “street” is the one that she “traverse[s]” freely. 

    Her interest focuses only on being.  She leaves the idea of becoming to others.  While she experiences this great eternal present of being, she remains in a state of blissful confidence. 

    Fourth Tercet:    No Other News

    If Other News there be –
    Or Admirabler Show –
    I’ll tell it You –

    Then the speaker declares that if, in fact, she ever acquires any other significant information, she will let her listeners know about it. But her matter-of-fact declamations have made it quite clear that she does not expect such “Other News” to assail her consciousness. 

    She is aware that she is creating her own garden of verse into which she has the ability to place anything she wishes.  In her garden of creation, she can remain in her mystical state of awareness, meeting only angels and other eternal beings. 

    Every flower, every bird, every blade of grass has become endowed with the grace of the Heavenly Father, the Ultimate Reality, the Divine Being that is God.  The speaker’s dedication to such bliss becomes so full that she is urged to share her state with her audience, and she gladly complies with that urge. 

  • Arna Bontemps’ “God Give to Men”

    Arna Bontemps - Poetry Foundation - https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/arna-bontemps 
    Image: Arna Bontemps – Poetry Foundation 

    Arna Bontemps’ “God Give to Men”

    Arna Bontemps’ speaker makes a statement about three classifications of humankind, employing subtle but bitter irony to further his point of view.

    Introduction with Text of “God Give to Men”

    Arna Bontemps’ “God Give to Men” disguises its bitter irony in a prayer, in which the speaker seems to be asking God for certain gifts for each of three classifications of human beings: “the yellow man,” “blue-eyed men,” and “black man.” 

    The speaker’s subtle but bitter irony reveals his contempt as he actually denigrates two of classifications.  The speaker does not reveal explicitly to which classification he belongs.  Thus, readers are given some latitude to interpret the significance of each gift the speaker wishes to bestow on each class of men.

    An interesting thought experiment might include reading the poem from three different perspectives.  That is, if the speaker is a “yellow man,” what do his gifts to that class mean?   Also, if he is one of the “blue-eyed men,” how does that change the significance of each gift?   And if he is a member of the “black  man” classification, how might that impact his choices?

    The Weakness of Stereotyping 

    It should be noted that the speaker engages heavily in stereotyping for all three classifications.   Such a weakness could encourage the thought that this speaker does not belong to any of the classifications to which he is referring; for example, perhaps he is a red man or a brown man of Hispanic or Middle Eastern heritage, or perhaps he is an Indian from India.

    By stereotyping each classification of man and men, the speaker offers nothing of substance regarding each, but the question does arise regarding the possible animus he holds for certain of the classifications.

    Singular vs Plural

    Interestingly, the speaker refers to the first classification as “the yellow man,” while designating the second group as “blue-eyed men.” Then he returns to the singular for the third group. That distinction from singular for the “yellow man” to plural for the “blue-eyed men” and then back to singular for the “black man” offers an issue for interpretation. 

    Might pluralizing the “blue-eyed” indicate the speaker’s level of familiarity with that group?  Perhaps he simply finds the plural more rhythmic in its employment of pronouns.  Or perhaps, it a simple rookie mistake. Such distinctions remain for each reader to decide.

    God Give to Men

    God give the yellow man
    an easy breeze at blossom time.
    Grant his eager, slanting eyes to cover
    every land and dream
    of afterwhile. 

    Give blue-eyed men their swivel chairs
    to whirl in tall buildings.
    Allow them many ships at sea,
    and on land, soldiers
    and policemen.

    For black man, God,
    no need to bother more
    but only fill afresh his meed
    of laughter,
    his cup of tears.

    God suffer little men
    the taste of soul’s desire.

    Commentary on Arna Bontemps “God Give to Men”

    In this poem, the speaker puts on display stereotypes that he holds regarding three classifications of humankind. His evaluation of each classification becomes apparent through the gifts that he asks the Creator to bestow on each.

    First Stanza:  The Yellow Man

    God give the yellow man
    an easy breeze at blossom time.
    Grant his eager, slanting eyes to cover
    every land and dream
    of afterwhile. 

    In the first stanza, the speaker asks God to grant “the yellow man” gentle winds as he engages his “slanting eyes” observing the beauty of “blossom time.”  He then asks that this yellow man be afforded the prescience to peer into the “afterwhile.”

    The two gifts that the speaker is asking from God for the “yellow man” reveal two stereotypes that Westerners entertain regarding their Eastern brothers and sisters.  The first gift of “an easy breeze at blossom time” shows that the speaker has been influenced by Japanese and Chinese fine paintings that depict delicate “blossoms.” 

    In his second gift to the “yellow man,” the speaker is engaging the stereotype that assumes all Asians adhere to the tenets of reincarnation and karma.  He wishes God to grant this Eastern man the ability to see with his “slanting eyes” “every land and dream / of afterwhile.” 

    The magnanimity of both these gifts, however, is diminished by the mere fact that both gifts are based on stereotypes, not the individual heart-felt desire that each human being be given appropriate gifts from God.  

    But the insincerity of these stereotypical gifts becomes more than merely trivial.  The speaker is denigrating the yellow man for engaging in the mere frivolity of light sense pleasure; that “easy breeze at blossom time” thus competes with more important life-sustaining vital gifts that the speaker could have assigned the yellow man.  

    Note also that a poet writing today would be pilloried for using an expression such a “slanting eyes” to refer to an Asian individual—that is, unless that poet is of the ilk of LeRoi Jones, aka Amiri Baraka or Arna Bontemps.

    Second Stanza:   The Blue-Eyed Men

    Give blue-eyed men their swivel chairs
    to whirl in tall buildings.
    Allow them many ships at sea,
    and on land, soldiers
    and policemen.

    For the “blue-eyed men,” the speaker asks that God give them skyscrapers with office equipment, as well as mighty navies and armies with “soldiers”  as well as “policemen.”   Again, as with the yellow man,  the speaker employs a mere stereotype to designate which two gifts he thinks God should grant.  The first gift that God should grant the blue eyes is the comfortable chairs in office buildings that are tall. 

    The speaker is presenting the stereotype that blue-eyed men are materialists who work in offices with “swivel chairs” in “tall buildings.”  The second gift of vast military force and police officers again stereotypes the “blue-eyed men” as interested only in power and force. 

    By honing in on these two particular gifts instrumental in the use of force, the speaker reduces those men with blue eyes to power hungry monstrosities.  As this classification is much less of a protected class in the 21st century, the poet writing today could get away with much more invective stereotyping even than this one.  

    Third Stanza:   The Black Man

    For black man, God,
    no need to bother more
    but only fill afresh his meed
    of laughter,
    his cup of tears.

    The speaker then asks God’s gift to the “black man” be nothing special—just let him laugh plenty and cry as needed.  This classification dictates that it suffer the other classes to precede it, as this classification remains humble.    But the humility remains a mere façade as the bitter irony of the speaker’s requests has demonstrated his scant knowledge of all three classifications. 

    A stereotype can describe only a surface level of qualities, for example, the notion that black people all have rhythm and love watermelon and fried chicken becomes ludicrous after observation of real individuals forming this classification.   Yet, less obnoxious stereotypes are just as insidious, as they stand in for individual knowledge and mask ultimate reality.

    Fourth Stanza:   Suffering Their Desires

    God suffer little men
    the taste of soul’s desire.

    The fourth stanza consists of only two lines that ask a generalized gift from God.   The speaker wishes that each man of each classification “suffer” “the taste of soul’s desire.”  Essentially, the speaker is asking God make sure each of these “little men” are afflicted with whatever punishment they deserve for entertaining the desires that they hold.  

    The speaker has assigned each classification of human beings a “soul’s desire,” but that desire has been determined by a very biased speaker, who holds bitter contempt for his other-racial fellows.

    Asking God to grant each group of mankind their wishes, the speaker assumes that the yellow man wants to experience pretty flowers and contemplate the after life and that the blue-eyed men wish to accrue wealth and power.

    However, black man needs nothing at all; he remains so humble that all he wants is just to laugh and cry as he sees fit.  Thus the speaker is also implying that heretofore the black man has been denied his ability to laugh and cry according to his dictates.  But now through his humble prayer, the speaker hopes that God will give these well-deserved gifts, and then all will be right with the world.

    Reaping Bitter Fruit

    Readers likely wonder what may be the significance of race for the black poet Arno Bontemps.  The following poem by Bontemps is one example that demonstrates the poet’s attitude toward race:

    A Black Man Talks of Reaping

    I have sown beside all waters in my day.
    I planted deep, within my heart the fear
    That wind or fowl would take the grain away.
    I planted safe against this stark, lean year.
    I scattered seed enough to plant the land
    In rows from Canada to Mexico
    But for my reaping only what the hand
    Can hold at once is all that I can show.
    Yet what I sowed and what the orchard yields
    My brother’s sons are gathering stalk and root,
    Small wonder then my children glean in fields
    They have not sown, and feed on bitter fruit.

    The speaker in the Bontemps “The Black Man Speaks of Reaping” portrays black labor as vast, careful, but undercompensated; the speaker’s harvest is stolen by others, leaving descendants to glean only bitter, inherited injustice.  

    While Bontemps did not spout bitter personal hatred toward his fellows of other races—as did LeRoi Jones, aka Amiri Baraka—Bontemps did often decry the limitations he perceived that were placed on the black race.  He then often expressed his bitterness with irony and satire.  

    In “God Give to Men,” Bontemps has crafted a speaker, who is demonstrating a bitter attitude directed toward the races of men not his own, and although the piece engages subtle irony, it loses its heft because of the focus on stereotypes.

    Painting of Arna Bontemps  - Betsy Graves Reyneau, 1888 - 1964 https://www.si.edu/object/npg_NPG.67.79
    Image: Painting of Arna Bontemps  – Betsy Graves Reyneau, 1888 – 1964

  • Sundry Commands

    201a Image-Created by Grok inspired by the poem.jpg
    Image: Created by Grok inspired by the poem

    Sundry Commands

    Bring your toys, play with boats and rings,
    Bright strings of angels float about cool things.
    Wake up the sloth in your bonnet; red ribbons
    Tied to the anchor of drowning load the harbor.
    Quiet the noise in your brain, solace your neighbor.

    String your tunes onto the backs of commands.
    You have known steady loons to break in memory.
    Wake up in a drawing room filled with letters.
    Take responsibility for your own doings.
    Make apples turn brown in crusty weather.

    Do all in gentle rain that keeps the flow.
    Make haste to relinquish the death handle.
    Your parents had steel spines and fevered brains
    Yet their hearts kept time with the astral drum.
    Squelch the noise in your ear and fly over scum.

    Sing songs that spill rivers in the minds of harps.
    Don’t break the momentum of falling leaves.
    The floor of each heart is scattered with regrets.
    Go dumb in the face of disingenuity.
    Bring a noisy lantern that scrubs flaccid wine.

    Sing more songs, compose poetry for the ages.
    Copy the style but not the brunt of sages.
    Each balloon that pops drops a bird.
    Make each crisis sing with loud abandon
    That the noise in your brain flee to the outskirts.

  • James Weldon Johnson’s “The Creation”

    Image: James Weldon Johnson - https://www.green-wood.com/event/the-autobiography-of-an-ex-colored-man-110-years-later/
    Image: James Weldon Johnson

    James Weldon Johnson’s “The Creation”

    James Weldon Johnson’s “The Creation” remains a marvelous example of the poet’s depth of spirituality as well as his skilled craftsmanship at creating speakers who perform in his poetry compositions.

    Introduction with Text of “The Creation”

    In James Weldon Johnson’s “The Creation,” the speaker dramatizes Genesis chapter 1, verses 1-25.   The speaker employs the voice of a Southern preacher, exemplified by the lines, “Down in a cypress swamp” and “Like a mammy bending over her baby.”  

    The Wintley Phipps recitation of James Weldon Johnson’s “The Creation” is magnificent.  Phipps performs a perfect interpretation of Johnson’s poem.  The experience of listening to a fine poem always adds a nuance of meaning that a simple quiet reading lacks.

    The Creation

    And God stepped out on space,
    And he looked around and said:
    I’m lonely—
    I’ll make me a world.

     And far as the eye of God could see
    Darkness covered everything,
    Blacker than a hundred midnights
    Down in a cypress swamp.

    Then God smiled,
    And the light broke,
    And the darkness rolled up on one side,
    And the light stood shining on the other,
    And God said: That’s good!

    Then God reached out and took the light in his hands,
    And God rolled the light around in his hands
    Until he made the sun;
    And he set that sun a-blazing in the heavens.
    And the light that was left from making the sun
    God gathered it up in a shining ball
    And flung it against the darkness,
    Spangling the night with the moon and stars.
    Then down between
    The darkness and the light
    He hurled the world;
    And God said: That’s good!

    Then God himself stepped down—
    And the sun was on his right hand,
    And the moon was on his left;
    The stars were clustered about his head,
    And the earth was under his feet.
    And God walked, and where he trod
    His footsteps hollowed the valleys out
    And bulged the mountains up.

    Then he stopped and looked and saw
    That the earth was hot and barren.
    So God stepped over to the edge of the world
    And he spat out the seven seas—
    He batted his eyes, and the lightnings flashed—
    He clapped his hands, and the thunders rolled—
    And the waters above the earth came down,
    The cooling waters came down.

    Then the green grass sprouted,
    And the little red flowers blossomed,
    The pine tree pointed his finger to the sky,
    And the oak spread out his arms,
    The lakes cuddled down in the hollows of the ground,
    And the rivers ran down to the sea;
    And God smiled again,
    And the rainbow appeared,
    And curled itself around his shoulder.

    Then God raised his arm and he waved his hand
    Over the sea and over the land,
    And he said: Bring forth! Bring forth!
    And quicker than God could drop his hand,
    Fishes and fowls
    And beasts and birds
    Swam the rivers and the seas,
    Roamed the forests and the woods,
    And split the air with their wings.
    And God said: That’s good!

    Then God walked around,
    And God looked around
    On all that he had made.
    He looked at his sun,
    And he looked at his moon,
    And he looked at his little stars;
    He looked on his world
    With all its living things,
    And God said: I’m lonely still.

    Then God sat down—
    On the side of a hill where he could think;
    By a deep, wide river he sat down;
    With his head in his hands,
    God thought and thought,
    Till he thought: I’ll make me a man!

    Up from the bed of the river
    God scooped the clay;
    And by the bank of the river
    He kneeled him down;
    And there the great God Almighty
    Who lit the sun and fixed it in the sky,
    Who flung the stars to the most far corner of the night,
    Who rounded the earth in the middle of his hand;
    This great God,
    Like a mammy bending over her baby,
    Kneeled down in the dust
    Toiling over a lump of clay
    Till he shaped it in is his own image;

    Then into it he blew the breath of life,
    And man became a living soul.
    Amen.      Amen.

    Wintley Phipps’ recitation of “The Creation” 

    Commentary on “The Creation”

    Johnson’s speaker offers an imaginative, dramatic rendering of the origin of creation, based on the creation story in Genesis from the King James Version of the Holy Bible.

    First and Second Stanzas:  Personification of God

    And God stepped out on space,
    And he looked around and said:
    I’m lonely—
    I’ll make me a world.

     And far as the eye of God could see
    Darkness covered everything,
    Blacker than a hundred midnights
    Down in a cypress swamp.

    The speaker personifies God, giving the Deity the very human quality of loneliness and having Him “step [ ] out on space,” where He observes the vastness and decides, “I’m lonely / I’ll make me a world.” 

    The corresponding Genesis verse states,”In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth.” Johnson’s speaker gives God anthropomorphic qualities in order metaphorically explain the process of creation as revealed in the Holy Scripture.

    In Genesis, the darkness was on the face of the deep, because the world was formless. Johnson’s speaker dramatically describes pre-creation as “blacker than a hundred midnights / Down in a cypress swamp.” Of course, the speaker knows that his audience, likely his congregation, would be able to visualize that cypress swamp darkness.

    Third and Fourth Stanzas:   Calling for Light

    Then God smiled,
    And the light broke,
    And the darkness rolled up on one side,
    And the light stood shining on the other,
    And God said: That’s good!

    Then God reached out and took the light in his hands,
    And God rolled the light around in his hands
    Until he made the sun;
    And he set that sun a-blazing in the heavens.
    And the light that was left from making the sun
    God gathered it up in a shining ball
    And flung it against the darkness,
    Spangling the night with the moon and stars.
    Then down between
    The darkness and the light
    He hurled the world;
    And God said: That’s good!

    Genesis reveals that God called for light by heralding, “Let there be light.” Johnson’s speaker creatively allows that first light to beam when God smiled. In addition, the speaker metaphorically has the light causing the darkness to “roll [ ] up on one side” while “light stood shining on the other.” 

    To all this drama, God says, “That’s good!” Johnson’s speaker makes God an even more active entity than the Genesis version, where instead of speaking, God’s thoughts are exposed: “God saw the light, and it was good.” At this point, only God could have had that thought.

    The speaker then takes the liberty of having God create the sun by taking light in his hands and rolling the light into a ball and setting the sun “a-blazing in the heavens.” Using the light remaining after making the sun, God gathered it up in “a shining ball / And flung it against the darkness / Spangling the night with the moon and stars.” 

    The importance of light motivates Johnson’s speaker to elaborate on the creation of the earth’s only source of light. And again, as is repeated in Genesis, the speaker has God aver, “That’s good!”

    Fifth and Sixth Stanzas:  The Significance of the Sun

    Then God himself stepped down—
    And the sun was on his right hand,
    And the moon was on his left;
    The stars were clustered about his head,
    And the earth was under his feet.
    And God walked, and where he trod
    His footsteps hollowed the valleys out
    And bulged the mountains up.

    Then he stopped and looked and saw
    That the earth was hot and barren.
    So God stepped over to the edge of the world
    And he spat out the seven seas—
    He batted his eyes, and the lightnings flashed—
    He clapped his hands, and the thunders rolled—
    And the waters above the earth came down,
    The cooling waters came down.

    The importance of the sun is further emphasized as the speaker continues his drama. God begins to walk on the earth with the sun “on his right hand / And the moon on his left.”  And the stars were “clustered about his head.”  

    As God walked on the earth, His feet “hollowed the valleys out / And bulged the mountains up.” Genesis more vaguely reveals God’s creation process than this speaker, who imaginatively fills in the gaps as he creates his own creation myth.

    In Genesis, God separates the heavens from the earth. This speaker has God spitting out the seven seas and after clapping His hands, the thunder begins and rain comes down, “cooling waters came down.”

    Seventh and Eighth Stanzas:  Nature Comes into Being

    Then the green grass sprouted,
    And the little red flowers blossomed,
    The pine tree pointed his finger to the sky,
    And the oak spread out his arms,
    The lakes cuddled down in the hollows of the ground,
    And the rivers ran down to the sea;
    And God smiled again,
    And the rainbow appeared,
    And curled itself around his shoulder.

    Then God raised his arm and he waved his hand
    Over the sea and over the land,
    And he said: Bring forth! Bring forth!
    And quicker than God could drop his hand,
    Fishes and fowls
    And beasts and birds
    Swam the rivers and the seas,
    Roamed the forests and the woods,
    And split the air with their wings.
    And God said: That’s good!

    After the rain, grasses appear, and “little red flowers blossomed” and “A pine tree “pointed his finger to the sky.” This speaker gives specific details again not found in Genesis. He has the oak “spread out his arms.”

    He has lakes appearing as they “cuddled down in the hollows of the ground.” He has rivers running to the ocean, and God smiling as “a rainbow appeared / And curled itself around his shoulder.”

    In his eighth stanza, the speaker has God creating “Fishes and fowls / And beasts and birds.” God creates by raising His arm and waving His hand and commanding, “Bring forth! Bring forth!” Again, God evaluates His creation, declaring, “That’s good!”

    Ninth and Tenth Stanzas:  A Lonely God

    Then God walked around,
    And God looked around
    On all that he had made.
    He looked at his sun,
    And he looked at his moon,
    And he looked at his little stars;
    He looked on his world
    With all its living things,
    And God said: I’m lonely still.

    Then God sat down—
    On the side of a hill where he could think;
    By a deep, wide river he sat down;
    With his head in his hands,
    God thought and thought,
    Till he thought: I’ll make me a man!

    The speaker says that God walked about and observed all that He had created. Nevertheless, just as before He created all these things, God again found Himself lonely. Of course, Genesis does not anthropomorphize God; thus, there are no claims in Scripture that God was ever lonely.

    In trying to understand the mind of God, the human mind assigns human qualities to the Deity. As long as one realizes the limitation of such assignment, no problem occurs and much understanding can be gained through metaphor and personification.

    God then sits down to think about how to assuage His loneliness. Just as a man would do, He sits by a river with His head in His hands, thinking and thinking, and He finally gets the thought to make a man. 

    Eleventh and Twelfth Stanzas:  Bodies of Clay

    Up from the bed of the river
    God scooped the clay;
    And by the bank of the river
    He kneeled him down;
    And there the great God Almighty
    Who lit the sun and fixed it in the sky,
    Who flung the stars to the most far corner of the night,
    Who rounded the earth in the middle of his hand;
    This great God,
    Like a mammy bending over her baby,
    Kneeled down in the dust
    Toiling over a lump of clay
    Till he shaped it in is his own image;

    Then into it he blew the breath of life,
    And man became a living soul.
    Amen.      Amen.

    The speaker now has God create the first human being by “scoop[ing] the clay from the riverbed.” He employs the image of a mammy bending over her baby while she kneeled down in the dust working over a lump of clay. God shaped this lump of clay in his own image, as Genesis says, “Let us make man in our image, after our likeness.”

    Finally, God blew the breath of life into the body of the clay God-like image, and “man became a living soul.” At this point, the speaker/preacher concludes his drama/sermon with the traditional, “Amen. Amen.”

  • James Weldon Johnson’s “Mother Night”

    Image: James Weldon Johnson - Portrait by Laura Wheeler Waring https://npg.si.edu/object/npg_NPG.67.40
    Image: James Weldon Johnson – Portrait by Laura Wheeler Waring

    James Weldon Johnson’s “Mother Night”

    The speaker in Johnson’s sonnet, “Mother Night,” likens his own existence and protection to that of the planets—all are created and protected by the same Divine Entity.  Thus his soul remains a spark from the Original Divine Flame.

    Introduction with Text of “Mother Night”

    James Weldon Johnson’s “Mother Night,” a Petrarchan (or Italian) sonnet, metaphorically dramatizes night as the calm union of the soul with the Oversoul or the individual self with Divine Self.

    The speaker, influenced by Eastern as well as Christian philosophical tenets, draws a parallel between the conflict of day and night in the cosmos and his own struggle with the pairs of opposites in his earthly sojourn.   This sonnet’s form offers polished Petrarchan rime-scheme:  ABBAABBA in the octave, and CDECDE in the sestet.

    Mother Night

    Eternities before the first-born day,
    Or ere the first sun fledged his wings of flame,
    Calm Night, the everlasting and the same,
    A brooding mother over chaos lay.
    And whirling suns shall blaze and then decay,
    Shall run their fiery courses and then claim
    The haven of the darkness whence they came;
    Back to Nirvanic peace shall grope their way. 

    So when my feeble sun of life burns out,
    And sounded is the hour for my long sleep,
    I shall, full weary of the feverish light,
    Welcome the darkness without fear or doubt,
    And heavy-lidded, I shall softly creep
    Into the quiet bosom of the Night.

    Commentary on “Mother Night”

    All creation is protected by its Creator, Who performs in various guises somewhat like a mother bird, who protects her progeny.  Nighttime is the time for rest, peaceful contemplation, and retreat from the hustle and bustle of day time activities.

    Thus, nighttime may be perceived as a protecting entity that offers solace and comfort to those in need and those who wish for such qualities in their lives.

    First Quatrain:  Existence Was Brooding before the First Created Day

    Eternities before the first-born day,
    Or ere the first sun fledged his wings of flame,
    Calm Night, the everlasting and the same,
    A brooding mother over chaos lay.

    Like a brooding mother, that is, a mother bird who is sitting on her brood of eggs and then who continues to protect and keep them warm as baby birds, “Calm Night” kept watch over the unmanifested entity until the first-born day, before the first planets were created and hurled into activity: “ere the first sun fledged his wings of flame.” 

    The mature planet of the sun is like a bird that is now flying off on its own, after having been tenderly nurtured by its mother.

    Mother Night tenderly nurtured the growing cosmos that ultimately resulted in planets and people. Johnson’s metaphoric Night represents the non-vibratory realm of reality where nothing is manifested, and only the mind of God exists in that vibrationless realm.

    There is no creation only a peaceful possibility, a potential. Until God chooses to create beings to populate His cosmos, He simply broods like a mother over chaos. 

    Here the term chaos does not refer to our modern usage of confusion and disorder but to infinite formlessness. The term originates from the Greek Khaos, indicating a dark void from which the gods originated.

    Second Quatrain:  The Projection of Light as It Creates the Cosmos

    And whirling suns shall blaze and then decay,
    Shall run their fiery courses and then claim
    The haven of the darkness whence they came;
    Back to Nirvanic peace shall grope their way. 

    The second quatrain describes the plight of whirling suns as they “blaze and then decay.” Those planets of fire will eventually burn out and after they do, they will return “[b]ack to Nirvanic peace.” 

    The speaker employs the term Nirvanic, adjectival form for “Nirvana,” the Buddhist term for God-union, which is “Samadhi” in  Hinduism, “Salvation” in Christianity, and “Fana” in Sufism, the mystical branch of Islam.

    The speaker cleverly plays by punning “whirling suns,” whereas sun puns son. With God as Mother Night, Her suns (sons) will “run their fiery courses” (live their passionate lives) and then recede back into the arms of the brooding mother or God. 

    First Tercet:  The Individual Self as It Careens Toward Oblivion

    So when my feeble sun of life burns out,
    And sounded is the hour for my long sleep,
    I shall, full weary of the feverish light,

    The sestet then shifts from the cosmos to the speaker himself, a son of the night mother. The speaker vows that he will react to his death a certain way, but he does not clarify that way yet, but merely sets up the conditions for his final claim. 

    As his life comes to an end, as he knows that it “is the hour for [his] long sleep,” he will be fully aware that his life is ebbing.

    Second Tercet:  Faith That Leads the Faithful toward Their True Home

    Welcome the darkness without fear or doubt,
    And heavy-lidded, I shall softly creep
    Into the quiet bosom of the Night.

    And the speaker will “[w]elcome the darkness without fear or doubt.” His strong faith and intuition allow him to realize that his soul is going home. 

    This speaker has mused long and hard upon the profundities that puzzle every thinking brain.  He has contemplated what science has discovered about the nature of the created Cosmos.

    The speaker has likewise compared the knowledge  of scientists to that of the tenets of religion and philosophy.  And the result of his in depth study now allows him to formulate a pathway to Divine Reality.  

    This prescient speaker has come to understand that his own soul is simply a spark of the Divine Flame, Who has fashioned out of chaos a marvelous entity of joy, peace, hope, and love.

    This speaker’s eyelids may droop, but his soul is ever ensconced in the omnipresent protection of the beautiful mother, the Mother Night—who parallels the Blessèd Divine Reality—who will throughout eternity continue to brood over and fiercely guide and guard her beloved son.  

  • Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s Sonnet 44 “Belovèd, thou hast brought me many flowers”

    Image: Elizabeth Barrett Browning – NPG, London

    Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s Sonnet 44 “Belovèd, thou hast brought me many flowers”

    Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s final sonnet 44 “Belovèd, thou hast brought me many flowers”  from the sequence assures her belovèd that she has finally accepted his gift of love.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 44 “Belovèd, thou hast brought me many flowers”

    Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s final sonnet from the Sonnets from the Portuguese sequence assures her belovèd that she has finally accepted his gift of love.  Sonnet 44 “Belovèd, thou hast brought me many flowers” is the final poem, which completes this remarkable sequence of love poems.  

    This sonnet finds the speaker musing on the flowers that her belovèd has brought to her.   The speaker quickly transforms the physical blossoms into metaphysical blooms that symbolize the lovers’ bond.

    After all the handwringing of self-doubt that has plagued the speaker throughout this sequence, she must now find a way to assure both herself and her belovèd that her mind set has transformed itself from the dull negative to a shining positive.  The speaker must show her fiancé that they are bound together with an exceptional love.  She must also make it clear that she understands the strong ties they now possess.

    The speaker’s metaphoric comparison of the love gifts of  physical flowers and the symbolic flowers that she has created from her own heart soil will remain an eternal reminder to both herself and her belovèd as they travel the road of marriage together.

    Sonnet 44 “Belovèd, thou hast brought me many flowers”

    Belovèd, thou hast brought me many flowers
    Plucked in the garden, all the summer through
    And winter, and it seemed as if they grew
    In this close room, nor missed the sun and showers.
    So, in the like name of that love of ours,
    Take back these thoughts which here unfolded too,
    And which on warm and cold days I withdrew
    From my heart’s ground. Indeed, those beds and bowers
    Be overgrown with bitter weeds and rue,
    And wait thy weeding; yet here’s eglantine,
    Here’s ivy!—take them, as I used to do
    Thy flowers, and keep them where they shall not pine
    Instruct thine eyes to keep their colors true,
    And tell thy soul their roots are left in mine.

    Commentary on Sonnet 44 “Belovèd, thou hast brought me many flowers”

    The final sonnet in the sequence assures the speaker’s belovèd that she has finally accepted his gift of love, without any further doubts.

    First Quatrain:  A Gift of Flowers

    Belovèd, thou hast brought me many flowers
    Plucked in the garden, all the summer through
    And winter, and it seemed as if they grew
    In this close room, nor missed the sun and showers.

    The speaker muses about the flowers that her belovèd has given her during summer. To her it seems that the flowers have remained as vibrant indoors in her “close room” as they were outside in the “sun and showers.” 

    These miraculous flowers seem to have remained healthy and glowing even during winter.  The speaker then insists that they “grew / In this close room” and that they did not miss “the sun and showers.” 

    Of course, the physical flowers are just the motivation for the musing, which transforms the physical blooms into flowers of a metaphysical sort—those that have impressed images upon her soul, beyond the image on the retina.

    Second Quatrain:   Sonnets as Flower-Thoughts

    So, in the like name of that love of ours,
    Take back these thoughts which here unfolded too,
    And which on warm and cold days I withdrew
    From my heart’s ground. Indeed, those beds and bowers

    Thus the speaker commands her belovèd to “take back these thoughts which here unfolded too.” She is referring to her sonnets, which are her flower-thoughts given to her belovèd to honor their love. 

    The speaker affirms that she has plucked her sonnet-flowers “from [her] heart’s ground.” And the creative speaker has composed her tributes on “warm and cold days.” 

    The weather in the speaker’s heart and soul was always equal to producing fine blossoms for her loved one.   As the speaker basked in his love, the flower “beds and bowers” produced these poems with floral fragrance and hues.

    First Tercet:  Correcting Her Clumsiness

    Be overgrown with bitter weeds and rue,
    And wait thy weeding; yet here’s eglantine,
    Here’s ivy!—take them, as I used to do

    The speaker then inserts her usual self-deprecatory thoughts, admitting that her floral efforts are surely, “overgrown with bitter weeds and rue,” but she gladly submits them for him to “weed” as needed. 

    The speaker’s gifted and talented belovèd can correct her clumsiness. She names two of her poems “eglantine” and “ivy” and commands him to “take them,” as she used to take his gifts of flowers, and probably gifts of his own poems to her as well.

    Second Tercet:  In His Care

    Thy flowers, and keep them where they shall not pine
    Instruct thine eyes to keep their colors true,
    And tell thy soul their roots are left in mine.

    The speaker commands her belovèd to safeguard her pieces so “they shall not pine.” In his care, she will also not pine.  And the poem will “instruct [his] eyes” to the true feelings she bears for him.

    The speaker’s poems will henceforth remind him that she feels bound to him at the soul.  Soul qualities have always been more important to this speaker than physical and mental qualities.  

    The “colors true” of this speaker’s sonnets will continue to pour forth her love for her belovèd and “tell [his] soul their roots are left in [hers].”   Each sonnet will reinforce their love and celebrate the life they will make together.

  • 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