Tuesday, May 30, 2006

For once, then, something

Others taunt me with having knelt at well-curbs
Always wrong to the light, so never seeing
Deeper down in the well than where the water
Gives me back in a shining surface picture
My myself in the summer heaven, godlike
Looking out of a wreath of fern and cloud puffs.
Once, when trying with chin against a well-curb,
I discerned, as I thought, beyond the picture,
Through the picture, a something white, uncertain,
Something more of the depths—and then I lost it.
Water came to rebuke the too clear water.
One drop fell from a fern, and lo, a ripple
Shook whatever it was lay there at bottom,
Blurred it, blotted it out. What was that whiteness?
Truth? A pebble of quartz? For once, then, something.

Robert Frost

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

"That would be good both going and coming back. One could do worse than be a swinger of birches."

Robert Frost

My all time favourite poet by my all time favourite poem (or is it vice- versa? Ahhh it's so hard to think on this white-gold sandy beach as the water laps at my toes...oh, and did I mention the frosty cold beer served by the raven haired seƱorita? Yes, there's that.)

Besos,

Spanadian.