Words that sing
I was driving two of my boys to school yesterday morning, and a poet came on CBC Radio to recite an old Canadian poem (anyone also hear it, have it?), and talk about the Griffin Trust Awards, and my boys were absolutely attentive. It was utter silence in the car; they were transfixed. When the poet was done, the youngest asked me why poetry – Roethke, cummings, Yeats, Auden – was so important to me. “It’s words that sing,” I said.
Someone else must have said that before, and I remembered it. But anyway – here is some verse to get your day started right, and what I say to my children I feel about them:
i carry your heart with me by E. E. Cummings
i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart) i am never without it (anywhere
i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing, my darling)
i fear
no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) i want
no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)
and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)