A Little More Space
In his thirties Blake wrote that
line about learning to bear the
beams of love. It is the kind of phrase you turn in the pride of life. I wonder what William would
have penned had he waited until
the space of his forties, when he was a little more bereav’d of light? My fortyish frame tells me he might
have leaned more in the direction of learning to bear the burden of nouns – like time and melancholy and God.
line about learning to bear the
beams of love. It is the kind of phrase you turn in the pride of life. I wonder what William would
have penned had he waited until
the space of his forties, when he was a little more bereav’d of light? My fortyish frame tells me he might
have leaned more in the direction of learning to bear the burden of nouns – like time and melancholy and God.
Thank you for causing me to wonder what I’ll think of my writing in 10 years. What a powerful and humbling contemplation.
Susie, it is humbling to ponder…thanks for taking time to comment.
Beautiful Due–Actually, my first thought with the phrase “beams of love” had me thinking of support beams, like for the roof of a house. “Light beams” is surely a lighter interpretation than heavy support beams, but perhaps “support beams of love” also give a more 40-something flavor? (I’m 34, so maybe I have a transitioning interpretation.)
Wes, I like your thinking…I remember 34; it was a very good year.
O the blessed, timbered weight of learning. To hear His voice saying, ‘Come out from the grove, my love and care.’ and to go.
It is a timbered weight, Laure…I like that phrase very much.
John, I keep trying say that this is beautiful without being lame but I can’t manage it. It’s beautiful and true and bare.
Sarah, thank you for those words…they’re not lame at all.