Who would have thought that my most challenging class this year would come in the form of an innocent elective, based on contemporary poetry? What a struggle I’ve faced, opening my mind to new concepts and fighting to maintain my sense of balance in the literary world.
It’s been good for me, all in all. Obviously right now it’s difficult to concentrate on anything other than finishing up my capstone, this final thesis in poetry and two tests next week….mainly because all I want to do is plan out Italy. What I’m wearing, what I own, what I need to own, what I want to do, how I’m going to have any money, etc. But instead I’m in the world of critical theory and hybrid poetry. I’m doing what I can, and of course should get back to work. I need a place to share this poem, however, which is what brought me here.
may my heart always be open to little
birds who are the secrets of living
whatever they sing is better than to know
and if men should not hear them men are old
may my mind stroll about hungry
and fearless and thirsty and supple
and even if it’s sunday may i be wrong
for whenever men are right they are not young
and may myself do nothing usefully
and love yourself so more than truly
there’s never been quite such a fool who could fail
pulling all the sky over him with one smile
Thank you, e.e. cummings. You rule.