Date: October 09, 2019 04:18PM
Sunday Morning, by Wallace Stevens:
This is one of the greatest poems ever written, one of the greatest things ever written. I hear Keats, Shakespeare and Milton unmistakably, and half a dozen others echo throughout; yet it is exactly Wallace Stevens and only he. If there was only one poem of all poems to know by heart this might be it.
The text of the poem is here:https://obviousstate.com/blogs/project-52/week-30-wallace-stevens
Snippet for recovery:
Why should she give her bounty to the dead?
What is divinity if it can come
Only in silent shadows and in dreams?
Permit me to quote the introduction to the poem from the website, also for recovery purposes:
"We live in an old chaos of the sun" - Wallace Stevens.
From his meditative and philosophical poem, Sunday Morning, which was first published in 1915. The poem opens with a domestic scene in which an unnamed woman somewhat guiltily enjoys her morning after skipping Sunday services. It hints at a cultural shift, and implies that Sunday morning is not only for church.
The poem expands outward from this initial domestic scene, and this particular line turns sharply in a metaphysical direction.
Like the woman's fading religion, quaint conceptions of the sun as a symbol of order and benevolence are abandoned. The reality of the universe is more grand, more ancient, and more chaotic than that. The poet argues that the beauty of nature is not only very much present, but outlasts the paradise predicted by any religion.
Drawing inspiration from the orbits of moons, planets, suns and galaxies, the illustration traces the paths of interlocked objects across time. It hints at a hidden interdependence between things that can't be explained and may ultimately be unknowable.
That is well said. That is recovery for me.
(I am in no way affiliated with, nor do I profit from, anything from the link. I do, however, admire the couple, believe in their project, and support their work. I own a few of their pieces.)