Tuesday, November 10, 2009

One of my very favorite poems:

somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond

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 will easily 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 color 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 ee cummings

I was messing around online tonight, thinking of songs and poetry that will forever speak to my heart. I love this poem.

Have you ever met someone whose eyes are deeper than all roses? Someone who knows you so well they can just look at you and no words are needed?

They see right through you to the deepest part of your heart.

That's Jesus.

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