E. E. Cummings wrote a poem that I hold in the cup of my hands. It is that precious. His love is part of his being and it transcends the heart of the natural world. The construction and punctuation in the poem makes it even more dear. My expression here feels like a response to an assignment in English class, which is odd for this blog, but I don’t know how to honor this most beautiful poem any other way.
This is my favorite stanza. “(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows higher than soul can hope or mind can hide). It makes me wonder if love is a calling.
I Carry Your Heart by E.E. Cummings
I carry your heart with me (I carry it in
my heart) I am never without it (anywhere
I go you go, my dear ;and whatever is done
by only me is your doing, my darling)
I fear
no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) I want
no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)
and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart
I carry your heart (I carry it in my heart)
Sarah Gates
my favorite too
Maureen Goldman
It reaches your soul.
Elizabeth Auran
Maureen, my daughter Catie read this poem at my mother’s funeral five years ago…and we have a line of it inscribed on a Central Park bench in memory of both my parents. It is a remarkable poem. Thanks for your beautiful post.
Maureen Goldman
Thanks for sharing that Liz. Where is the bench in the park? I would love to see it.
Elizabeth Auran
It is on the park drive hugging the Reservoir on 93rd Street, about equidistant between my sister’s and my apt! It is a common meeting place for us.