Wednesday, December 12, 2012

There are a couple poems that I've read many times over, and still continue to read.  Though I know the words by heart, once in a while I have the urge to see them inked on a page.  Or at least, reflected off a screen.  Poems are captured emotions, and actually following their shape, feeling the stresses and pauses in their rhythm, releases their original form.

The distilled longing and sense of vulnerability she's zipped into a mere 3 dozen words never fails to move me.

Elysium is as far as to

Elysium is as far as to
The very nearest Room
If in that Room a Friend await
Felicity or Doom —

What fortitude the Soul contains
That it can so endure
The accent of a coming Foot —
The opening of a Door —



I've seen a couple interpretations of who or what exactly is in the other room.  I read this as a love poem.

In Greek mythology, Elysium is a realm of pleasure where heroes go in the afterlife.  So, heaven can be in the nearest room, if in that room awaits the one of your desires (Friend).  Who's there could bring wonderful bliss (Felicity) or utter despair (Doom).

For, when someone you long for is near, even their lightest step—the "accent of a coming Foot", and the gentlest of entrances—the "opening of a Door", fills you with anticipation and dread so heavy the Soul can hardly endure.  These lines capture so sharply those walking-on-eggshells feelings when you desire someone, who with a careless word would lift you to the clouds, or crush you into a spineless mess beneath their feet.