
April is National Poetry Month, and yesterday was Easter Sunday; those two facts are reason enough for me to share a poem with you today. Here’s another piece I love, by my all-time favorite poet.
i am a little church(no great cathedral)
far from the splendor and squalor of hurrying cities
-i do not worry if briefer days grow briefest,
i am not sorry when sun and rain make april
my life is the life of the reaper and the sower;
my prayers are prayers of earth’s own clumsily striving
(finding and losing and laughing and crying)children
whose any sadness or joy is my grief or my gladness
around me surges a miracle of unceasing
birth and glory and death and resurrection:
over my sleeping self float flaming symbols
of hope,and i wake to a perfect patience of mountains
i am a little church(far from the frantic
world with its rapture and anguish)at peace with nature
-i do not worry if longer nights grow longest;
i am not sorry when silence becomes singing
winter by spring,i lift my diminutive spire to
merciful Him Whose only now is forever:
standing erect in the deathless truth of His presence
(welcoming humbly His light and proudly His darkness)
~by e.e. cummings (source)
To my friends who celebrated yesterday, I hope your Easter was as full of light, laughter and joy as mine was.
“i lift my diminutive spire to merciful Him whose only now is forever.” Beautiful.
What I especially love about this poem is that it could be a literal poem about a little country church, or it could be symbolic and be meant to represent a person. I think it works both ways. Oh, and I love some of the phrases, too. Love, love, love e.e. cummings.
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