Watt's Well

Room to Be, Space to Create

Category: Poetry (page 2 of 2)

“Insecurity” (partly written sometime in February)

They sneak so silently,
rising from within.
Stirring gently heating the coals,
but tumultuous waters do come.

My familiar storm
eats away at me.
Yet protecting and projecting
to defend its humorous honor.

Dearest freshness

God’s Granduer
Gerard Manley Hopkins
The world is charged with the grandeur of God.
    It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
    It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
    And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
    And wears man’s smudge and shares man’s smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.
And for all this, nature is never spent;
    There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
    Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs —
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
    World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.
I remember reading this and dissecting it in high school English class.  I remember the first time my very eccentric, confident, encouraging teacher read it to the class. I loved it. I just wanted to hear it read aloud again and once more. There is a stability in its words I need to be reminded of, a sacredness I need to drink from every so often to refresh my soul.
I just stumbled upon Hopkins’ words tonight while reading something else. However I found something I think I was looking for.
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