Thursday, May 08, 2014

nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands

Since giving up Facebook back in February it occurred to me the thing I miss most about it is the ability to communicate things I happen across that move me or inspire me. Pictures, photographs, things I see on my day to day journey, conversation pieces I overhear (always a delight especially when heard out of context), scenes from films that come to mind. And today I thought, well, given I have this space to communicate and express myself, who says all of it as to be 1200 worded blog posts? Certainly I can talk and write for England, that is true, but sometimes just an image, a thought, or a poem is in and of itself valuable. So here, today, a contribution in this spirit. One of my favourite if not my favourite poem, by E.E. Cummings entitled 'Somewhere I have never travelled, gladly beyond.' Those who know me and know his work, will also know this features in a much loved (by me) film  'Hannah and Her Sisters' (1986) by Woody Allen.

somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience, your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully, mysteriously) her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the colour of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens; only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands

E.E. Cummings

With thanks to

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