Linda's Literary Home

Tag: nature

  • Emily Dickinson’s “I have a Bird in spring”

    Image: Emily Dickinson – Amherst College – This daguerrotype circa 1847 at age 17 is likely the only authentic, extant image of the poet.

    Emily Dickinson’s “I have a Bird in spring”

    Emily Dickinson’s riddle-poem “I have a Bird in spring” features the speaker’s musing on her ability to sense existence beyond the earthly, material level of physical reality. She also expresses her confidence that the “Bird” she possesses is not one that she could ever lose.

    Introduction with Text of “I have a Bird in spring”

    Emily Dickinson’s “I have a Bird in spring” exemplifies the poet’s oft-employed strategy of creating little dramas that not only function as poems, but they also work well as fascinating riddles.

    The speaker never states the name of this strange bird that can fly away from her and then return bringing her new melodies from far beyond the sea.  

    This metaphoric avian winging its way beyond a metaphoric sea possesses the delicious power to calm any doubts and fears that might molest the speaker. That a mere bird could retain such seemingly magical powers renders this Dickinsonian riddle one of her most profound and most captivating little dramas.

    I have a Bird in spring

    I have a Bird in spring
    Which for myself doth sing  –
    The spring decoys.
    And as the summer nears  –
    And as the Rose appears,
    Robin is gone.

    Yet do I not repine
    Knowing that Bird of mine
    Though flown  –
    Learneth beyond the sea
    Melody new for me
    And will return.

    Fast in safer hand
    Held in a truer Land
    Are mine  –
    And though they now depart,
    Tell I my doubting heart
    They’re thine.

    In a serener Bright,
    In a more golden light
    I see
    Each little doubt and fear,
    Each little discord here
    Removed.

    Then will I not repine,
    Knowing that Bird of mine
    Though flown
    Shall in distant tree
    Bright melody for me
    Return.

    Reading of “I have a Bird in spring”  

    Commentary on “I have a Bird in spring”

    The speaker muses on and dramatizes the activity of a metaphoric bird that can bring to her wonderful bits of information from beyond the material level of existence.

    First Stanza:  A Strange Bird

    I have a Bird in spring
    Which for myself doth sing  –
    The spring decoys.
    And as the summer nears  –
    And as the Rose appears,
    Robin is gone.

    The speaker begins employing a rather straight forward claim that becomes ever more mysterious as she continues.  She reports that she is in possession of “a Bird in spring.” However, that “Bird” sings for her alone.  Such a statement remains intriguing because it seems obvious that birds sing for everyone, or rather perhaps they sing for no one but themselves and likely other birds.  

    Even if this speaker is creating her little ditty about a pet bird that she keeps in a cage, that bird likely would not sing simply for his care-taker.  Paul Laurence Dunbar’s speaker has averred in his poem “Sympathy” that he “knows why the caged bird sings,” and the bird does not sing only for the one who has caged him.

    Thus, the puzzle continues to plays out. Why is this “Bird” singing only for his owner/care-taker?  Thus, the speaker then asserts that as spring moves on, the season lures her away from her “Bird.” But then as she moves into summer, she becomes attracted by the beauty of “the Rose,” but then her “Bird,” whom she now calls “Robin” has flown away.

    The first stanza leaves the audience cogitating on such a mystifying conundrum:  an unusual bird that seems to belong to a person, simply up and disappears as the season of spring with all of its lushness has captured the individual’s attention and as roses are starting to blow forth for summer.

    Second Stanza:  Not a “bird”  – but a “Bird”

    Yet do I not repine
    Knowing that Bird of mine
    Though flown  –
    Learneth beyond the sea
    Melody new for me
    And will return.

    The speaker then offers yet another surprising claim.  She reports that she does not worry that the bird has vanished.  She remains confident that this special “Bird” has simply winged its way “beyond the sea” where he will accrue some new melodies. 

    The bird with his newly learned repertoire will then return to her.  Once again, the speaker has offered an even more puzzling event for the audience to ponder.  Her rare bird has apparently flown away, but the avian’s owner/care-taker seems to remain convinced that he will fly back to her.  The likelihood of any person recognizing the same bird that had flown far way from her remains next to nil.  

    As thousands of birds appear and fly away chirping throughout the land or landing in trees, the ability to distinguish the same bird as the exact one that flew away and then returned would be a stunning feat.

    The speaker’s claim seems ridiculous—however,  it may not be ridiculous because that “Bird” that she owns is not a “bird.” Instead the avian referred to by the speaker is, in fact, a “Bird.”  It is thus a metaphorical bird.  And because he is a metaphoric not a literal bird, the audience has to rethink all those claims that seemed so terribly unusual. 

    In order to take this confusing discourse seriously, the reader must interpret a metaphorical bird. How can a bird be metaphorical?   The speaker is calling a bird a “Bird,” and that figurative “Bird”  is not a literal bird.

    Third Stanza:  Divine Creator as Muse

    Fast in safer hand
    Held in a truer Land
    Are mine  –
    And though they now depart,
    Tell I my doubting heart
    They’re thine.

    The speaker then makes it clear that this metaphorical “Bird” is her muse.  Her muse thus retains the qualities, features, and aspects of her soul.  Those soul qualities and functions permit her to fashion a new creation, such as her magnificent other “sky,” which includes her marvelously perpetual “garden” of poetry.  Thus, the speaker creates her garden of verse, where she can spend her time, her effort, and her love.  In this metaphysical world, she can continue to  fashion a different world.  

    Even as she lives in the world of physical, material, earthly existence, because she communes with her inner being—her soul which is a spark of the Ultimate Creator (God)—she can create just the Creator does.

    Her soul—through the instrumentality of her metaphysical “Bird”— bestows on her the ability to comprehend that fact that she along with her talent remains secure in the presence of the Divine Creator.  

    The speaker, her soul, her muse, and her talent are all “Held in a truer Land”—a metaphorical, cosmic location that remains more real because it is ever existing as well as eternally present, unlike the planet called Earth, on which immortality and eternity do not exist.  

    Aging, fading, destruction, and death obtain on the physical level of existence, for example, on such place as the Earth planet.  The speaker’s compendium of joy includes her mental abilities, her writing talent, and her love and appreciation of beauty, poetry, and the arts and science.

    This compendium the speaker has fashioned into  a metaphorical, metaphysical “Bird” is secured “fast” by a “safer hand.”   The speaker’s Heavenly Father, Divine Creator (God) guides and guards her in myriad mystery-making ways.  She remains aware, however, that she follows that guidance through faith because she continues to work and ponder with a “doubting heart.”  

    However, she informs her doubting heart that the compendium of joyous qualities, metaphorically fashioned into her “Bird,” still belong to her.  Though at times they may seem to move beyond her sight, her strong faith keeps her mind convinced that immortality and eternity belong to her.

    As the Shakespearean sonneteer, who often complains about periods of creative dryness that afflict him, this speaker confesses that certain entities and events of spring and summer may distract her, allowing her “Bird” to seem to fly off and disappear for long whiles.   Nevertheless, she finds relief through the understanding that her talent is merely resting and likely experiencing further development somewhere out of her vision.

    Her “Bird” is just off somewhere learning new melodies for her to sing and fashion into new dramas.  Even more important is that she need not entertain doubts about the return of that special bird.  They will return to her because “They’re [hers].”  What belongs to her, she cannot lose.

    Fourth Stanza:  Seeing through Mystic Eyes

    In a serener Bright,
    In a more golden light
    I see
    Each little doubt and fear,
    Each little discord here
    Removed.

    The speaker moves on detailing the reasoning that allows her to be sure that her “Bird” will return to her.   During her periods of clear sight which she at times experiences even with the absence of her “Bird,” she can sense in a “more golden light” that all her doubts, worries, fears, and discordant thoughts “here” can be removed.  

    As she remains living upon this Earth planet, she acknowledges that her fears will likely persist in attacking her. However, because of her assurance of her own divinity through her the power of her soul—that spark of the Divine Creator—she remains capable of realizing that those trials and tribulations brought on by the dualities and pairs of opposites of Earth life are time-stamped.

    In opposition to the temporal, her soul power is permanent without any limitation or stamp of time.  The speaker possesses to ability to perceive through mystic eyes in a “serener Bright” and “golden light.”   These cosmic lights bestow upon her the ability to quiet her doubting heart.

    She possesses the awareness that Eternity and Immortality are hers.  Her capacity to continue creating her own “sky” and “garden” remains absolute—the knowledge of the Absolute has the power to quiet and even eliminate fears and doubts.

    Fifth Stanza:  The Virtue of Patience

    Then will I not repine,
    Knowing that Bird of mine
    Though flown
    Shall in distant tree
    Bright melody for me
    Return.

    The speaker can finally report that she will no longer fuss and fret if her “Bird” remains away from her for extended periods.  She will remain confident that he will return to her and bring with him beautiful, glowing melodies.  

    Even though that “Bird of [hers]” may retain a inclination for disappearing from her sight, she is sure that her own consciousness is simply being distracted by other entities and events of “spring” and “summer.”   Those warm seasonal activities just permit her “Bird” to flutter deep into the darkened areas of her mental sphere.

    The speaker experiences great joy in creating her little dramatic pieces, and also once again similar to the Shakespearean sonneteer, she possesses the great ability to create her dramas even as she appears to be experiencing a blockage in the flowing of her words.  

    Incubation and Writing

    Writing teachers and rhetoricians explain the concept of incubation as a stage of the writing process, a period of time when the writer seems not to be thinking directly about his writing project but to be allowing his thoughts to quietly proliferate, even as he goes about performing other activities. 

    Dickinson and the Shakespearean sonneteer, as creative writers, were able to use that concept for creating their little dramas, even as they, no doubt, chafed under their seeming inability to create.

    Dickinson’s mystic sight afforded her an even stronger talent for delivering her mind to performance because she knew her soul to be immortal, and she was able to see mystically beyond the physical, Earth-level of being.   The Shakespeare writer’s faith was strong enough to render him nearly as capable as Dickinson, as his “Muse” sonnet sequence (Part 1 and Part 2) testifies.

  • Emily Dickinson’s “Like Brooms of Steel”

    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 “Like Brooms of Steel”

    Emily Dickinson’s “Like Brooms of Steel” features the riddle-like metaphoric usage that the poet so often employs.  She playfully turns the natural elements of snow and wind into brooms made of steel and allows them to sweep the streets, while the coldness draws stillness through the landscape.

    Like Brooms of Steel

    Like Brooms of Steel
    The Snow and Wind
    Had swept the Winter Street –
    The House was hooked
    The Sun sent out
    Faint Deputies of Heat —
    Where rode the Bird
    The Silence tied
    His ample — plodding Steed
    The Apple in the Cellar snug
    Was all the one that played.

    Commentary  on “Like Brooms of Steel”

    For Emily Dickinson the seasons offered ample opportunities for verse creation, and her love for all of the seasons is quite evident in her poems.  However, her poetic dramas become especially deep and profound in her winter poems.

    First Movement:   The Nature of Things in Winter

    Like Brooms of Steel
    The Snow and Wind
    Had swept the Winter Street —

    The speaker has been observing and musing on the nature of things in winter. She finally speaks and makes the remarkable claim that the “Winter Street” looks as if it has been swept by “Brooms of Steel.” The “Snow and Wind” are the agencies that have behaved like those hard, industrial brooms.  In Dickinson’s time were decidedly absent those big plows we have today that come rumbling down the streets, county roads, and interstates.

    But those simple natural elements of snow and wind have moved the snow down the street in such a way that it looks as if it has been swept with a broom. And not just a straw broom would do, but it had to be a steel broom, an anomaly even in Dickinson’s century.

    Second Movement:  House as Big Warm Rug

    The House was hooked
    The Sun sent out
    Faint Deputies of Heat –

    The speaker then remarks about “the House,” which looked as if it had been, “hooked.” She is referring to the process of creating a rug with a loom that employs a hook.  The house is like a big warm rug as “The Sun sent out / Faint Deputies of Heat.” Of course, the sun will always be sending out heat, but this speaker looks upon those dribbles of warmth as mere “Deputies.”  They are sent in place of the sheriff, who will not appear until summer, or late spring at the most.

    Third Movement:  A Tree Steed

    Where rode the Bird
    The Silence tied
    His ample – plodding Steed

    The speaker then spies a bird, who seems to have ridden in on a “plodding Steed.” But the steed has been stilled by “silence”—denoting that the steed was indeed a tall tree. The tree is silenced by fall having blown away all of his leaves. He no longer rustles in the wind, but he does serve as a useful vehicle for both bird and poet.

    Fourth Movement:   Silent, Frozen

    The Apple in the Cellar snug
    Was all the one that played.

    The winter scene is filled with things that are still, silent, frozen in place by those agents of cold. The still bird sits in the still tree, silent, waiting in the frozen atmosphere. The musing speaker detects both silence and stillness and makes them vibrant with an inner, spiritual movement.

    Yet, the speaker has to confess that the only real movement, things that might be said to have “played” that cold day, belongs to the “Apple in the Cellar.” The apple is “snug,” wrapped in tissue paper, preserved for the long winter months. 

    Or perhaps even some apple wine is “snug” in its bottle, and might even be a better candidate for playing.  But they differ greatly from those outdoor creatures; those apples possess a level of warmth that allows them to play, although the irony of such playing might intrigue and tickle the fancy of the musing mind that deigns to contemplate the icy bitterness of winter.

    Misplaced Line Alters Meaning

    A number of sites that offer this poem—for example, bartleby.com—misplace the line, “The Apple in the Cellar snug,” relocating it after “Faint Deputies of Heat.”

    This alteration changes the meaning of the poem:  Dickinson’s poem makes it clear that it is the “apple” that is the only one who played.  While it might seem more sensible to say a horse played instead of an apple, that is not what the original poem states.   And, in actuality, the apple does, in fact, do some moving as it will begin to decay even though it is securely wrapped for winter and stored in the cellar.

    The problem is, however, that the speaker has said that silence has “tied” or stilled the steed; he is not moving, which means that the bird is not moving. So to claim that the steed is playing gives motion to the bird, which the speaker claims is still.

    The only thing that makes sense is that the speaker is exaggerating the stillness by saying that the snug apple is playing. The irony of a playing apple does not contradict the stillness that the speaker is painting, while the playing steed would violate and confuse that meaning.

    Full 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 “Nature – the Gentlest Mother is”

    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 “Nature – the Gentlest Mother is”

    In a unique mystical voice, Emily Dickinson’s speaker is dramatizing a number of the many ways in which Mother Nature takes care of her children.  Dickinson’s keep observation and knowledge of science allowed her the ability to skillfully create her little dramas about her surroundings.

    Introduction with Text of “Nature – the Gentlest Mother is”

    Emily Dickinson’s love of nature was deep and abiding.  Along with her intense study of and research in the sciences, she observed her surroundings keenly and those activities bestowed on her the ability to render into art her amazingly beautiful and accurate statements regarding how nature functions.

    Dickinson discovered the careful nurturing as well as the softly discipling forces of nature, and she observed those qualities in both the animal and plant kingdoms.  Those natural qualities motivated a deep affection for the workings of all of God’s creation.

    This poem contrasts greatly with her riddle-poems, for it states explicitly the target of her observation—nature.  After he clear statement of focus, she demonstrates how keen were her powers of observation and then how skillful she was in transforming those observations into art.

    Nature – the Gentlest Mother is

    Nature – the Gentlest Mother is,
    Impatient of no Child –
    The feeblest – or the waywardest –
    Her Admonition mild –

    In Forest – and the Hill –
    By Traveller – be heard –
    Restraining Rampant Squirrel –
    Or too impetuous Bird –

    How fair Her Conversation –
    A Summer Afternoon –
    Her Household – Her Assembly –
    And when the Sun go down –

    Her Voice among the Aisles
    Incite the timid prayer
    Of the minutest Cricket –
    The most unworthy Flower –

    When all the Children sleep –
    She turns as long away
    As will suffice to light Her lamps –
    Then bending from the Sky –

    With infinite Affection –
    And infiniter Care –
    Her Golden finger on Her lip –
    Wills Silence – Everywhere –

    Commentary on “Nature – the Gentlest Mother is”

    Emily Dickinson’s speaker is employing her unique mystical voice as she dramatizes a catalogue of the myriad ways in which Mother Nature nurtures the beings under her care.  She has determined that the Mother that mothers nature uses the softest touch, thus earning the title of “Gentlest Mother.”

    First Stanza:  The Mothering from Mother Nature

    Nature – the Gentlest Mother is,
    Impatient of no Child –
    The feeblest – or the waywardest –
    Her Admonition mild –

    The speaker in Emily Dickinson’s “Nature – the Gentlest Mother is“ assigns to Mother Nature the superb quality of “Gentlest Mother.”

    The speaker is also reporting to her audience that this gentlest of mothers has abundant patience in dealing with her charges.

    Mother Nature, this gentlest mother, guides in an even tempered way those who are the weakest.  And she addresses and corrects in a “mild” manner those who are the most recalcitrant.

    Second Stanza:  Disciplining Methods

    In Forest – and the Hill –
    By Traveller – be heard –
    Restraining Rampant Squirrel –
    Or too impetuous Bird

    As Mother Nature’s human progeny moves over the hills and go riding through the woodlands, they are apt to hear that Gentlest Mother as she restrains an excited “Squirrel,” or as she tones down a very tempestuous bird.

    The speaker expresses the natural behavior of animals in terms of the disciplining methods used by the “Gentlest Mother.”

    Animal behavior quite often requires that a higher force guide them in their impetuousness.  And thus the gentlest mother deals with them as they require.  In her tenderness, they are permitted to flourish and to grow.  In their life span, they remain in the embrace of the mother’s caring, tender arms.

    Third Stanza:  Measured Ways

    How fair Her Conversation –
    A Summer Afternoon –
    Her Household – Her Assembly –
    And when the Sun go down –

    The speaker observes that this gentlest mother’s discussions with her charges always remains completely balanced.

    The speaker relates how on a beautifully peaceful summer afternoon this perfect mother maintained her “Household,” while gathering together all the fine qualities of her very being, and those of her little family.

    The speaker then commences her next idea in this stanza but leaves it conclusion in the fourth stanza.  The skillful placement of this statement permits the action taken in “And when the Sun do down” to become finalized; then, she moves on the remainder of the thought.

    Fourth Stanza:  Bringing Forth Prayer

    Her Voice among the Aisles
    Incite the timid prayer
    Of the minutest Cricket –
    The most unworthy Flower –

    The speaker places this gentlest Mother “among the Aisles” from where she can bring forth from the attendees their “timid prayer.”

    In an earlier poem, the poet has reported that her “church” remains where the creatures of nature abide; they luckily appear nearby her home which serves her as her cloister:

    Some keep the Sabbath going to Church –
    I keep it, staying at Home –
    With a Bobolink for a Chorister –
    And an Orchard, for a Dome

    Therefore, in this fourth stanza of “Nature – the Gentlest Mother is,” her speaker can assert that this gentlest Mother may be found bringing forth a prayer from the smallest “Cricket” and “The most unworthy Flower.”

    Naturally, the human notion of “unworthy” cannot be not applied to the evaluation by this  gentlest mother, because she accepts all prayers equally.  She applies the same level of justice to all of her children.

    Fifth Stanza:  Dousing the Lights for Sleep

    When all the Children sleep –
    She turns as long away
    As will suffice to light Her lamps –
    Then bending from the Sky –

    As the day progresses to its end—”when all the Children sleep”—this gentlest mother quietly moves to put one her lamps. And of course those lamps are the moon and stars.

    Here again in this stanza, the speaker begins an idea, but then again puts off its conclusion to the next stanza.

    The speaker has begun the thought of the mother “bending” from her perch in the heavens. She thus travels very far to light her lamps, and then she must return to her children.

    Sixth Stanza:  Hushing for Slumber

    With infinite Affection –
    And infiniter Care –
    Her Golden finger on Her lip –
    Wills Silence – Everywhere –

    It is with great affection and tender care that this gentlest mother moves her “Golden finger” to her lips, signaling for “silence.”  Night is now embracing her children who are spread far and wide.

    The mother now calls for silence so that her charges may peacefully slumber.  The mother bestows on them a great stillness that is night time, so that they may rest from the day’s activities. And so that they they recharge for the coming events of the coming day.

    (Note:  To see a Dickinson hand-written version of this poem, please visit “Nature – the Gentlest Mother is“)

  • Gerard Manley Hopkins’ “Pied Beauty”

    Gerard Manley Hopkins – National Portrait Gallery, London

    Gerard Manley Hopkins’ “Pied Beauty”

    Gerard Manley  Hopkins’ “Pied Beauty” is an eleven-line curtal sonnet, dedicated to honoring and praising God for the special beauty of His creation.  Father Hopkins coined the term “curtal” to label his eleven-line sonnets.

    Introduction and Text of “Pied Beauty”

    The speaker in Gerard Manley Hopkins’ poem/hymn “Pied Beauty” offers a tribute to the Creator for all things natural and human inspired, with special emphasis on things that are multi-colored, dotted, striped, or patterned in ingenious ways.  The poem employs Father Hopkins’ famed sprung rhythm and unique rime scheme: ABCABCDBCDC.  

    The poem is an eleven-line sonnet called a curtal, a term which Father Hopkins coined to describe the form he employed in certain of his poems, including “Pied Beauty.”  While the speaker emphasizes beauty by contrasting things that are widely touted as unpleasant yet possess a certain aura of unique loveliness, he ultimately is affirming that God has made all of creation to reflect various styles of beauty.

    Thus, the speaker begins by giving all “glory” to God for all these created things, and he concludes by insisting that God be praised for giving humankind these many patterned objects of beauty.   

    God and beauty are being weighed in special terms as the speaker creates in his hymn a drama of oppositional tension that results in the creation of balance and harmony.    Through appreciation and praise of God for His gifts, humankind learns that balance and harmony in order to complete life’s goals and purposes. 

    Pied Beauty

    Glory be to God for dappled things –
       For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;
          For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;
    Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches’ wings;
       Landscape plotted and pieced – fold, fallow, and plough;
          And áll trádes, their gear and tackle and trim. 

    All things counter, original, spare, strange;
       Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)
          With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;
    He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:
                                    Praise him.

    Recitation of “Pied Beauty”

    Commentary on “Pied Beauty”

    Father Hopkins’ poem remarkably enlists several synonyms for the important title term “pied.”  Those synonyms are dappled, couple-colour, brinded (archaic form of brindled), stipple, and freckled.   All of those terms refer to multi-color or dotted patterns that so often appear in nature, that this observant human heart finds divinely inspired.

    The poem is, therefore, a hymn honoring the Supreme Creator of all that exists.  The piece offers gratitude that the Heavenly Father-Creator has fashioned His world to provide delight for His children.

    First Movement:  A Pattern of Gratitude

    Glory be to God for dappled things –

    The speaker begins by glorifying Creator-God for having effected His world to include objects that are multi-spotted and multi-colored.  While the speaker undoubtedly offers God all glory to everything in creation, he also glorifies his Creator for not only things but also events.  The act of creation remains of particular interest.

    The speaker appears to be concentrating on a certain style and pattern that the Almighty has chosen to bestow on certain of His creatures and things.  And this devout speaker remains most appreciative of those patterns.  Thus, the glory, the honor, and the achievement of God have infused this speaker’s heart and mind to express gratitude.

    Second Movement:  Examples of All Things Dappled

    For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;
          For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;
    Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches’ wings;
       Landscape plotted and pieced – fold, fallow, and plough;
          And áll trádes, their gear and tackle and trim.

    The speaker then offers examples of those “dappled” things for which he is offering glory to God. He appreciates the sky that ofttimes appears as multi-colored as a spotted bovine.  The speaker is thankful also for the patterns that are dotted over the bodies of “trout that swim.”  These stippling patterns resemble small mole-like roses as they decorate the skin of those fish.

    This observant, devout speaker also adores the beauty of fallen chestnuts that resemble freshly set-ablaze fire coals on a grate or in a stove.   He also uses the “finches’ wings” to exemplify his appreciation for things “dappled.”  The wings of finches are often layered strips.  The speaker then widens his example to include even the “[l]andscape” or the farmers’ fields that the farmer has “plotted and pieced” in order to plough and “fold” or allow to lie “fallow.”  

    He finds those patterns to be offering the glory that all “dappled” things offer; thus, he honors them by mentioning them as an example. In fact, every commercial endeavor deserves a nod along with the instruments, their tools, which he refers to as “gear,” “tackle,” and “trim.”

    Third Movement:  The Spice of Variety

     All things counter, original, spare, strange;

    In the second stanza, beginning with the third movement, the speaker shifts from simple  spotted, multi-colored things to everything remaining that runs against expectation, or that is original and unique, or things that seem simple, and things that appear odd.

    Because creation seems to offer an infinite number of styles, patterns, and ways of being, the speaker now wishes to praise God and glorify the Divine Maker by recognizing the Creator’s penchant for variety. 

    If the old adage “variety is the spice of life” possesses any truth, then certainly the Heavenly Father-God is responsible for the creation of those spices.  This speaker thus widens his scope for gratitude.

    Fourth Movement:  Things That Change

     Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)
          With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim; 

    The speaker then offers further elucidation for the other components that make up his glossary of things that deserve attention and appreciation because of their having been offered to humankind by the Ultimate Reality, the Supreme Creator of the cosmos.

    So the speaker reports that all things, beings, creatures that possess the quality of fickleness or changeability belong to his list of things that honor and give glory to God.  Even “freckled” things, of which no one can define the origin, belong to this category.

    Those “fickle” and “freckled” things all have several qualities in common; thus, they may exist and behave with speed or move measuredly.   They may possess the opposite flavors of sweetness or sourness.  Some may also reflect light blazingly while others remain muted and subdued.

    Regardless of the unique qualities, they are all part of the Blessèd Creator’s offerings to His children for their pleasure or for their edification or to light whatever pathway they are destined to follow.

    Fifth Movement:  That Which Does not Change

    He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:
                                    Praise him.

    The speaker then concludes with a command—”Praise him.”  In the beginning, he made it clear that he was offering all glory to God for the things He has given through creation. Now he offers his stern command, but before that command, he offers the reason that such praise is due Him. 

    The Father of all this beauty continues, and although He Himself is “past change” or without the necessity to change Himself, He continues to offer through creation a beauty that is many faceted, multi-colored, multi-stippled, and brindled. And all things remain on a spectrum that humankind cannot duplicate but is surely obligated to honor, appreciate, and glorify in the name of Father God.

  • Original Song:  “River Spirit” and Prose Commentary

    Image: “Whitewater River Songs – Album Cover” Photo by Ron W. G.

    Original Song:  “River Spirit” and Prose Commentary

    I wrote “River Spirit” circa 1980 then made a homemade recording of it around 20 around 2004.  In 2023, my husband Ron—whom I call “My Sweet Ron”—created the video featuring his own photos and videos selections along with the song.  

    Introduction to and Lyric of “River Spirit”

    The lyric of “River Spirit” plays out in four stanzas of tercets, with one couplet appearing as the second stanza.  It sports no traditional rime-scheme but does offer one set of perfect rime in “hand/sand” in the second and third lines.  Other slant—or more accurately ghost rimes—appear in “water/before” in the couplet.

    Ghost rimes also make an appearance with “bed/edge” and “changes/images.”  The time frame begins in spring, as the singer begins to report what she sees along the river after the cold hard season of winter has given way to the warmth of spring.

    The theme of the song is the mystery the singer feels at seeing that the landscape along the river has been radically transformed from what she had observed during the summer before this transforming winter had its sway.  The singer poses questions about how the trees got uprooted and the path along the river has shifted, as even the stones are taking on new patterns.

    The singer then announces what she had thought to be the agent of the transformations; however, she is ultimately revealing—in the title—that what she “guessed” back in the day, she now knows to be the work of the Divine Reality, the “River Spirit”—or God (see “Names for the Ineffable God”).

    (Please note:  Dr. Samuel Johnson introduced the form “rhyme” into English in the 18th century, mistakenly thinking that the term was a Greek derivative of “rythmos.”  Thus “rhyme” is an etymological error. For my explanation for using only the original form “rime,” please see “Rime vs Rhyme: Dr. Samuel Johnson’s Error.”)

    River Spirit

    Every spring along the Whitewater River
    I saw that some mysterious hand
    Had rearranged the rocks and sand.

    The path I followed the summer before
    Was slipping off into the water.
    I could not figure out whose force
    Could drive that water among the reeds
    & shift the river in its bed

    Whose muscles uprooted those trees?
    Whose fingers patterned those stones
    Along the edge?  

    I guessed only that the spring thaw
    Conjured up the changes
    In those sleeping river images.

    Commentary on “River Spirit”

    The time frame is spring, as the singer begins to muse on what she observes along the river after the cold, hard season of winter has given way to the warmth of spring.  Her earlier guess about that riverbank rearrangement has now become an article of faith, and she proclaims in the title the answer to her earlier inquiry.

    First Movement:  The Hand of Mystery

    Every spring along the Whitewater River
    I saw that some mysterious hand
    Had rearranged the rocks and sand.

    The singing narrator launches right into her story by making the claim that she observed a change in the pattern of stones and sand along the river’s edge, and she make this observation “every spring.”  She had thus a recollection of having experiences these changes many times.

    She colorfully attributes those rearrangements to “some mysterious hand.”  At this point, it may sound a bit odd that a river walker would think a hand had been involved in what went on along the riverbank in her absence.

    Second Movement:  River Features Shifting

    The path I followed the summer before
    Was slipping off into the water.

    After setting the stage for mystery and rearrangement of river features, the singer offers a very specific change.  She had walk along a path during the preceding summer, and now that path simply veered off into the river water.  Such a change would likely be quite jarring for the hiker, who would necessarily be obliged to alter her walking pattern.

    Third Movement:  Puzzling over the Changes 

    I could not figure out whose force
    Could drive that water among the reeds
    & shift the river in its bed

    The singer now inserts her puzzlement.  She becomes curious as to how such changes could have occurred.  She sees that the river has now shifted its course, plunging into the reeds along the bank.

    The mere fact of the river shifting “in its bed” seems Herculean in prospect.  The river is such a large body of moving water that the notion of it shifting surely requires a force that strikes the singer an unimaginable at this point.

    Fourth Movement:  Who Made Those Changes?

    Whose muscles uprooted those trees?
    Whose fingers patterned those stones
    Along the edge?  

    The singer then again adds more specificity to her inquiry.  She sees that trees have been “uprooted,” and she observes that the stones along the river’s edge have been rearranged in a different pattern from the summer before.

    Again, she colorfully attributes those “changes” to a seemingly human agency of “muscles” and “fingers.”  But behind those specific agents must lie some metaphysical force that at this point the singer cannot name, cannot even offer a guess about.

    Fifth Movement:  Guessing at the Conjuring

    I guessed only that the spring thaw
    Conjured up the changes
    In those sleeping river images.

    Now the singer offers what she thought to be an answer to her inquiry: Well, it was likely that not any hands, muscles, or fingers enforced all of these changes; it was simply the process of thawing out from the ice during the warming movements brought on by spring.

    Sure, that’s it: the spring movements of thawing influenced those inert river features to alter themselves into differing patterns from the summer before.  What else could it be?  But the singer is understating what she really believes now.  She “guessed” about the “spring thaw”—but that was then, this is now.

    Thus the singer through anthropomorphic images of hands, muscles, fingers has proclaimed that a humanlike power has, in fact, mades these changes.  Not an actual human being on its own however.  But some power that retains in its Being the image of the human form, power,  and ingenuity.

    Simply, the title of the lyric has already stated what the singer pretends to guess about as she unfurls the song:  God (as the “River Spirit”) has performed His magic on these “sleeping river images.” God has “conjured up” those alterations in those river images as they moved from a frozen, winter sleep to vital spring time awakening.

  • Original Song:  “I Wonder if You Ever Think of Me” and Commentary

    Image:  “Winter Melancholy” Irca & Jacky K.

    Original Song:  “I Wonder if You Ever Think of Me” and Commentary

    I wrote this song about 40 years ago, made a homemade studio recording of it about 20 years ago.  Recently, my husband Ron created a video using his own photos and videos selections featuring the song.  

    Introduction, the Lyric, and the Video

    The lyric of “I Wonder if You Ever Think of Me” displays in four cinquains and one single line, which concludes the lyric by repeating the chorus-like line, transforming the title from wondering to knowing.  The time frame runs from winter to the beginning of spring, with the singer signaling “snow” in the opening line and concluding with winter having turned to spring.

    The song follows a lost-love theme, which therefore relies on melancholic images such as “gray sky” in the opening cinquain, “bare branch” in the second, “wind is blowing cold” in the third, “empty house” in the final stanza.  Despite the theme of melancholy and the lost-love subject, the rendition maintains a rather fast paced rhythm, which allows room for interpretation regarding the depth of the sorrow that appears to be elucidated.

    I Wonder if You Ever Think of Me

    Now the snow is on the ground.
    I walk through the yard.
    Your footsteps I can’t find.
    Gray sky is pressing me down,
    And I wonder if you ever think of me.

    Light through my window comes late.
    I stand and I watch
    Bare branch against the sky.
    I take a walk down by the bridge,
    And I wonder if you ever think of me.

    Outside the wind is blowing cold.
    My heart beats fast
    To think you may be near.
    I walk back to my bed,
    And I wonder if you ever think of me.

    Night turns to day, winter to spring.
    I walk down the road,
    My dog my only friend.
    I walk back to the empty house,
    And I guess I know you never think of me.

    I guess I know you never think of me.

    Commentary on “I Wonder if You Ever Think of Me”

    What may at first blush seem to be a “lost-love” theme filled with sorrow and foreboding can be understood in actuality as quite the opposite—an affirmation of the efficacy of musing, ruminating, and clear-eyed observation.

    First Cinquain:  Beginning a Winter Tale 

    Now the snow is on the ground.
    I walk through the yard.
    Your footsteps I can’t find.
    Gray sky is pressing me down,
    And I wonder if you ever think of me.

    The singer begins to set the stage by revealing the season of the year in which she is making her musing.  “Snow” likely says, it is winter time.  A cold beginning foreshadows the mood of the piece as the singer wonders if the addressee ever thinks of her. Before revealing what she is wondering, she adds two details that set her glum mood. 

    The sky is gray and causing her mood to be low and likely sad, but more likely the detail responsible for her mood is that she cannot see the footprints of the addressee in the snow. That a natural phenomenon of the gray sky accompanying the lack of footprints of a likely lost loved one is wholly understandable.  Human emotion often tinges the nature of  things surrounding it.

    Second Cinquain: Bare Branch and Gray Sky Compound the Melancholy

    Light through my window comes late.
    I stand and I watch
    Bare branch against the sky.
    I take a walk down by the bridge,
    And I wonder if you ever think of me.

    The singer then reveals that she is looking out a window and the sun seems to have delayed its arrival that morning, as it is coming late.  She continues to stand at the window looking out at the winter branches on the trees; they are, of course, bare, having experienced the autumn season that preceded the current time frame.  The “bare branch” is set “against the sky,” revealing another detail of the melancholy which the singer is experiencing.  Bare branches are not considered to be as beautiful as branches full of leaves as in spring and summer.  

    It has already been revealed that the sky is “gray,” and thus the coupling a gray sky and bare branch work together the compound the melancholy mood of the singer.  The singer is then on the move; she walks down to the bridge.  She then repeats the chant-like refrain of wondering if the addressee thinks of her.  Likely the walk was intended to mitigate the melancholy of her wondering, but it has not helped thus she repeats her refrain.

    Third Cinquain:  A Fantastic Interlude

    Outside the wind is blowing cold.
    My heart beats fast
    To think you may be near.
    I walk back to my bed,
    And I wonder if you ever think of me.

    Instead of supplying any detail of the walk back to her house, the singer just suddenly places herself there as she notices that a cold wind is rustling “outside.”  The singer’s continued attempt to mitigate her painful wondering causes her mind to become jerked about, leaving out details that her listeners might want to have as they try to follow her narrative. 

    Again, the speaker adds an important detail that remains otherworldly; her heart begins to beat fast because the thought has arisen that, in fact, the addressee may actually “be near”—not just in her thought but in physical reality.  But instead of rushing to window to look to see if that nearness is likely, she simply “walk[s] back to [her] bed.”  Again, her refrain becomes dominant as she “wonder[s] if [the addressee] ever thinks of [her].”

    Fourth Cinquain:  Winter Bleeds into Spring

    Night turns to day, winter to spring.
    I walk down the road,
    My dog my only friend.
    I walk back to the empty house,
    And I guess I know you never think of me.

    Quite a bit of time has passed from the time frame of the first three cinquains; it is now spring.  But the singer conflates the changing of the season with nighttime turning to daytime.  Her mind is on the passage of time.  Time is supposed to possess a healing power.  Observing the changing of temporal phenomena may become part of the healing process.   

    But now the singer reveals that she is on the move again; this time she is simply taking a walk “down the road” and she is accompanied by her dog.  She confides that her dog is her “only friend.”  Thus her listener can be assured that she is still alone, still missing the addressee, even before she reveals that her house is still empty.  Again, the refrain of wondering if the addressee thinks of her becomes a final or near final expression.  She has continued to wonder as she wandered from winter to spring, as night becomes day, as she strolls about with or without her dog friend, and as she has continued to observe the things around her.

    Final Single Line:  The Return of Harmony and Balance

    I guess I know you never think of me.

    The final single line reveals that the singer has reached a conclusion.  She now knows that the addressee does not ever think of her.  She does not reveal explicitly how she knows that, but she has made it clear the she has cogitated on the issue for at least a whole season.  She began in winter time observing the absence of the addresses by the absence of footprints in the snow. She strolled through the yard, she strolled down the bridge, and she stood at her window watching as night turned to day and one season bled into another.

    The listener can then easily assume that as the singer did all of these things, she was musing, turning over in her mind details about the relationship with the addressee.  Thus with all of this musing and cogitation, she has reached the conclusive answer to the question, and it is no, the addressee never thinks of her. 

    The fast pace of the song reveals a certain mood of affirmation despite the melancholy that many of the images impart.  The singer has therefore not composed a dirge but a hymn to the importance of musing, cogitation, and observation.  The human heart may be persuaded to lighten if the mind of the observer remains focused on achieving balance and harmony.