up into the silence the green...(41)
by e.e. cummings
up into the silence the green
silence with a white earth in it
you will(kiss me)go
out into the morning the young
morning with a warm world in it
(kiss me)you will go
on into the sunlight the fine
sunlight with a firm day in it
you will go(kiss me
down into your memory and
a memory and memory
i)kiss me,(will go)
Though I won't claim to be any kind of versed poetry buff, I must say that my favorite poet (from my limited exposure) is e.e. cummings. I often read his work and wonder what was churning in that brilliant, most likely misunderstood mind of his. The way he throws structure and functionality to the wind is inspiring. He breaks all the rules and creates nothing more that what is true to himself. Though best known for his poetry, he was also an artist...
What strikes me most about e.e. cummings is how much I resonate with his creative spirit. His poetry seems confused, disjointed...yet I find it speaks so much of what is inside myself. I am often struggling with so much at my core that is confused and disjointed, so much feeling that I fear I might reach a moment in which I will explode.
I can't contain it yet I can't let it out either.
I understand why so many great artists were perceived as insane...if any other human being were to venture inside my mind and heart, they might perceive me no differently...not to coin myself a great artist in any way...but I can't escape my artist's heart, insanity and all. I am so complex that I can't even crack my own code, my own melancholic being, the angst of my existence. I was created an immensely creative and deep individual...and as much as I appreciate that about myself, at times I wish I were simpler and more straight-forward, that things didn't reach me at the depth they do, that I didn't have so much passion that it hurt. Can't I live a content existence as a simple person who sets their mind in the joys of the every day? Can't I stay put, plant roots, grow without always having to run and run and run...?
I can't. I am restless. Full of a thousand tears shed for the lust of wanting more. More for my life. More for me.
To do more.
To see more.
To help more.
To experience more.
To love more.
To touch more.
I wish I could share with the abyss of the internet the plans that are stirring inside my heart...the ways in which I am planning to become more. Based solely on principal and stubbornness, I have committed to myself to not talk to very many people about my "plans" until they are happening. I want to become who I am meant to become uninhibited by the perceived opinions of those around me. Don't get me wrong, I love the people who speak into my life...but this stems from a place in me that is deeper than almost anyone could reach. I have to do this one on my own. And I'm terrified to be yanked from my comfort zone and thrust into the uncontainable Unknown. It's big and it's new. And I'm blind to its ways...but I think I'm ready for the challenge of tackling it. I shudder to think...but my very soul tingles with anticipation, passion, and immense determination.
To the great Unknown: may you receive me with open arms and an air of adventure and may I return the favor with grace, poise, and dignity.