Poem in October

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Dylan Thomas

For reading click here .. poem in october – dylan thomas

“the mussel pooled and heron Priested shore”

It was my thirtieth year to heaven

Woke to my hearing from harbour and neighbour wood

And the mussel pooled and the heron

Priested shore

The morning beckon

With water praying and call of seagull and rook

And the knock of sailing boats on the net webbed wall

Myself to set foot

That second

In the still sleeping town and set forth.

My birthday began with the water-

Birds and the birds of the winged trees flying my name

Above the farms and the white horses

And I rose

In rainy autumn

And walked abroad in a shower of all my days.

High tide and the heron dived when I took the road

Over the border

And the gates

Of the town closed as the town awoke.

A springful of larks in a rolling

Cloud and the roadside bushes brimming with whistling

Blackbirds and the sun of October

Summery

On the hill’s shoulder,

Here were fond climates and sweet singers suddenly

Come in the morning where I wandered and listened

To the rain wringing

Wind blow cold

In the wood faraway under me.

Pale rain over the dwindling harbour

And over the sea wet church the size of a snail

With its horns through mist and the castle

Brown as owls

But all the gardens

Of spring and summer were blooming in the tall tales

Beyond the border and under the lark full cloud.

There could I marvel

My birthday

Away but the weather turned around.

It turned away from the blithe country

And down the other air and the blue altered sky

Streamed again a wonder of summer

With apples

Pears and red currants

And I saw in the turning so clearly a child’s

Forgotten mornings when he walked with his mother

Through the parables

Of sun light

And the legends of the green chapels

And the twice told fields of infancy

That his tears burned my cheeks and his heart moved in mine.

These were the woods the river and sea

Where a boy

In the listening

Summertime of the dead whispered the truth of his joy

To the trees and the stones and the fish in the tide.

And the mystery

Sang alive

Still in the water and singingbirds.

And there could I marvel my birthday

Away but the weather turned around. And the true

Joy of the long dead child sang burning

In the sun.

It was my thirtieth

Year to heaven stood there then in the summer noon

Though the town below lay leaved with October blood.

O may my heart’s truth

Still be sung

On this high hill in a year’s turning.

Durch Schmerz?

There is a brilliant book by Netherlands author Harry Mulisch – The Discovery of Heaven. It isn’t an evangelical tract. It portrays the Universe from the perspective of the possibilities outside it. The potential that the Universe does not call into being. Quantum mechanics shows us that nothing is actual until observed. In that sense we, as witness engines (points of observation) call forth this particular Universe. We are enmeshed in the spacetime of our choosing. Here and now. Literally.

We ae imprisoned in the Universe as we together have created it. Why did we, humanity, create a history that includes (those infamous atheists) Stalin, Hitler, Pol Pot?

The Cross is the symbol of Christ, redeemer. At it’s heart is the point of transformation, escape into the world beyond spacetime, as imagined by Harry Mulisch. And yes, through pain. Kraft durch Schmerz, or perhaps Freude durch Schmerz?

In reality, we’re all entangled

“William Blake says the body is ‘that portion of soul discerned by the five senses”

Marion Woodman, Conscious Femininity: Interviews With Marion Woodman (Studies in Jungian Psychology By Jungian Analysts, 58)

Quantum mechanics tells us that there is no such thing as a completely isolated object: objects are connected. The impression of separateness is just an illusion. It is possible for a particle to interact with another particle in such a way that the two particles form a single entangled quantum state. What this means is that the state of one particle is dependent on the state of the other in some way. Because of this dependency, it is a mistake to consider either particle in isolation from the other. Rather, we should combine the states and treat the result – both particles – as a single, entangled system. …. What this reveals is that our human perception of objects being separated is not a match with the physical reality of the situation.

“The relationships between particles and the entire Universe are interacting with each other through their inward and outward waves. Thus they become joined into one ensemble of waves which determines the behavior of the individual particles. The simplest example is Mach’s Principle, which proposed (1890) that all the matter of the Universe determines the Law of Inertia (f=ma)”

(The Eightfold Way of The Universe. Milo Wolff).

We are not alone (to be human is to be part-virus)

We now know that we “humans” are in fact a mixture of lots of species. For instance our DNA is 8% of viral origin. The mitochondria that produce power within all of our cells were originally bacterial species that we absorbed and recruited to work for us.

One way in which Darwin was WRONG – is that evolution happens in leaps and bounds, not gradually. There are long periods of genetic stability within populations, and then there is a huge leap forward. That can be caused by a dramatic shift in environment of course; but the really big moves have been when our DNA has been combined with others.

Since I finished my degree in vertebrate evolution in 1979 – we have discovered so much about where we came from. Take transposons. Heard of these? Well it now seems that big chunks of DNA get passed around between species. That’s LATERAL evolution. Or what about reverse transcriptase. That’s a mechanism by which RNA can be “read back” into the genetic material that codes it; and why can’t that genetic material then be passed down to descendants? In other words Lamarck was right (or at least part right) – what happens in our bodies can and does influence our genes and therefore the next generation.

Anyway – we are not alone. What appears to be the distinct species – Homo Sapiens – is actually a constantly changing and linking melting pot of lives and species.

Who knows maybe Coronavirus is a blessing – and somewhere in the RNA killing machine there’ll be a bit of code that we’ll make use of. And then, perhaps the next Great Leap Forward will be when we – as bits of biology – combine with machines and algorithms to become another wave of recombinant life? The idea of part man- part machine has always seemed terrifying to me. But perhaps this is all part of God’s loving plan? Maybe this is where Pierre Teilhard de Chardin was pointing when he predicted (in the 1950’s) that our invidividual consciousness would merge and emerge as something conscious of love and God – at the Omega point.

Ramblings? Of course – because who actually knows what comes next – ramblings and musings are a way of contouring and contouring what the future may hold.

The Darkling thrush

Thomas Hardy

For reading click here …the darkling thrush thomas hardy

I leant upon a coppice gate
When Frost was spectre-grey,
And Winter’s dregs made desolate
    The weakening eye of day.
The tangled bine-stems scored the sky
    Like strings of broken lyres,
And all mankind that haunted nigh
    Had sought their household fires.

The land’s sharp features seemed to be
    The Century’s corpse outleant,
His crypt the cloudy canopy,
    The wind his death-lament.
The ancient pulse of germ and birth
    Was shrunken hard and dry,
And every spirit upon earth
    Seemed fervourless as I.

At once a voice arose among
    The bleak twigs overhead
In a full-hearted evensong
    Of joy illimited;
An aged thrush, frail, gaunt and small,
    In blast-beruffled plume,
Had chosen thus to fling his soul
    Upon the growing gloom.

So little cause for carolings
    Of such ecstatic sound
Was written on terrestrial things
    Afar or nigh around,
That I could think there trembled through
    His happy good-night air
Some blessed Hope, whereof he knew
    And I was unaware.

Surprised to Joy

For reading click here …surprised to joy

What is the colour of silence?

Here presently co-occupied

Fire and rosary’s concrescence

Or shirt of flame thus belied?

 

What pattern the fret-saw begets

In knot-stitch broider’d relief

A surf-line that curves as it whets

sharply thrown stones of belief

 

Common be-cause with time’s passing

Caught in your fawn-liquid glance

Through hours our pow’rs thus amassing

Surprised to joy from this trance