The Unclad Soul

I was at Starbucks the other day to settle into a vanilla latte and do a little catching up on my reading. I’m trying to finish Tana French’s “The Likeness.” Which by the way is a fantastic novel. I was struck by how nearly everyone in the room was on their phone. Even couples or groups of people sitting together; they were all texting, or doing some kind of data or app stuff. No one was talking. Except one lone woman who was on her phone going on and on to an invisible person on the other end having some insipid discussion about flooring. Apparently she was remodeling her extravagant kitchen and couldn’t decide on a pattern or color or whatever. I’m not judging. I do it too. Check my email. Send texts. Search websites. Download tunes. We are all constantly on our phones. No one though really talks to anyone anymore. Our society is sick with inattention, blather, bullshit, indifference, blocked emotions, blank stares, or being lost in some smart phone fog. We really...

After the red leaf and the gold have gone, Brought down by the wind, then by hammering rain Bruised and discolored, when October’s flame Goes blue to guttering in the cusp, this land Sinks deeper into silence, darker into shade. There is a knowledge in the look of things, The old hills hunch before the north wind blows. Now I can see certain simplicities In the darkening rust and tarnish of time, And say over the certain simplicities, The running water and the standing stone, The yellow haze of the willow and the black Smoke of the elm, the silver, silent light Where suddenly, readying toward nightfall, The sumac’s candelabrum darkly flames. And I speak to you now with the land’s voice, It is the cold, wild land that says to you A knowledge glimmers in the sleep of things: The old hills hunch before the north wind blows. ~ Howard Nemerov, American Poet There is so much beauty in the language of this poem. The words carry such solid wisdom. We are in this seas...