I was looking through my file of what I've written this year, and I found a poem I didn't even remember. When I investigated further, I found I wrote it in June and sent it to Tricia of The Miss Rumphius Effect for the Summer Poetry Swap. I also sent her my 2019 version, written when I chose the word Possibility for that year. So here are both the poems, plus a link to Emily Dickinson's original at the end.
Possibility
I dwell in Possibility —
I peer out of my Gate
And wonder what Surprises
And Happiness await.
Perhaps a new Adventure
Is just around the Bend
Or maybe just a little Walk
With a familiar Friend.
I’m off to gather Paradise
And bring an Armload Home —
I’ll spread it out upon the Floor
To make the Evening bloom.
Ruth, thereisnosuchthingasagodforsakentown.blogspot.com
Though locked inside at Home.
Outside, there’s only Danger,
It does not do to roam.
Sometimes, all masked and careful
We venture to those Lands,
Then once again retreat inside,
Zealously wash our Hands.
For now we try to gather
Our Paradise from here
And sort it from our Gatherings
When it is mixed with Fear.
Yet Possibility awaits,
A brighter future Time,
A World still there, outside the Gates,
More Hills still left to climb.
15 comments:
What a contrast between these two versions, yet both offer hope and possibility.
I love you taking the time to write the second poem, Ruth. It would be a challenge to take a poem and write again. And you took that challenge and did it so well. Have a wonderful week before Christmas!
I like the paradise and how it changes in your two poems–especially gathering from inside–"here" and Emily Dickinson's. And thanks for the bit of hope!
I literally had a smile on my face as I read the 2019 version and felt it fall as I read the 2020. So much lost. But, also, so much I appreciate that I have had. I'm so grateful that I've been able to take walks with friends. I really, really look forward to doing that more without the mask again someday. Merry Christmas, Ruth.
Wow, a true exercise and ode to the possibility of poetry... one jumping off place can take a poet to so many places... thank you for sharing these, Ruth. xo
Love reading both versions, Ruth. Interesting in the different perspectives, yet both are hopeful and optimistic. The very word "possibility" is wonderful, isn't it?
The third stanza of your first poem was particularly stunning for me. I will think about possibility and paradise today. Thank you for sharing these.
LOVE!
Ruth, there is a distinct difference between the 2019 version and this year's. It is sad to think about what came to interfere in life, especially now. I just heard that my 92-year-old uncle who lives in an assisted living home in Central NY has been whisked back to the hospital with a case of pneumonia brought on by COVID. He is alone, confused and I am not sure what possibilities await. So once again I ask you as a prayer warrior to pray. Last week, he was sent back to his assisted living being asymptomatic. Everyone in his facility were quarantined. We thought he was in a very secure place but that virus is nasty.
I read Emily Dickinson's poem and felt peaceful. I am glad that the 2020 version of your home also ends on a note of hope. Hope is what I am holding on to.
The contrast in your poems is quite stunning Ruth. It reflects the influences in our lives. It is important to acknowledge such changes. It allows the reader to witness the emotional waves that wash up on our respective shores. Throughout both pieces the essence of hope shines its light.
You have delivered such a wonderful picture of the "before" and the "after,"
Ruth. Thank you. There is sadness there, but also hope. Happy holidays and stay well!
Love these two poems, Ruth, and especially appreciate the hope in the last stanza of the 2020 version. My hope is for that "brighter future" to arrive soon.
Ruth, these are both so lovely. My favorite part of both versions is the ending stanza. While I like the timeliness of the second version, the surrealness and yet accessibility of this image:
I’m off to gather Paradise
And bring an Armload Home —
I’ll spread it out upon the Floor
To make the Evening bloom.
just really wows me. Thank you for that. The sublime and the ordinary and the magic that happens with hope. All in a few short lines...
Thank you for sharing both these poems--and reminding me to stay present to possibility no matter what the present is like. How different this summer was than 2019. And who knows what next summer will bring!? I really like the stanza that Laura quoted above--that's my favorite, too.
You nailed both endings! Here's to possibilities!
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