Wordsworth wrote an endless poem in blank verse on” the growth of a poet’s mind.” I shall attempt a more modest feat for a more distracted age: a blog, “Things which a Lifetime of Trying to Be a Poet has Taught Me.”
What is it about the moon and stars that fascinates us so? (If you have not felt the fascination, you have been cheated of a great mystery by light pollution.) One partial answer may appear below.
The Contribution of Lesser Lights
For a while he could almost count them as they came
Like scouts, but then the whole vast army stepped
At once into the sky and into flame.
Like a poem he could not understand, they kept
A vigil in his spirit while he slept
And swift were vanishing when he awoke.
But the more garish light of day that swept
Them from the sky swept no soul’s darkness, spoke
No lightning lines, no secrets could uncloak.
Oh, it shone bright and clear, there was no doubt,
And glanced gold fire from off the dull-leaved oak.
But though man has it in him to blot out
The sun, these lesser lights still often find
The chinks in the dark armor of his mind.
Remember: for more poetry like this, go to https://lanternhollow.wordpress.com/store/ and order Stars Through the Clouds! Also look for Inklings of Reality and Reflections from Plato’s Cave, Williams’ newest books from Lantern Hollow Press: Evangelical essays in pursuit of Truth, Goodness, and Beauty.