It is hard to hear the north wind again,
And to watch the treetops, as they sway.They sway, deeply and loudly, in an effort,
So much less than feeling, so much less than speech,Saying and saying, the way things say
On the level of that which is not yet knowledge:A revelation not yet intended.
It is like a critic of God, the worldAnd human nature, pensively seated
On the waste throne of his own wilderness.Deeplier, deeplier, loudlier, loudlier,
The trees are swaying, swaying, swaying.– Wallace Stevens, The Region November
Twirling Leaf
November 24, 2010 by 5 Comments
What a lovely image Bo. And I love the poem – deeplier and loudlier are so much nicer and more appropriate than deeper and louder. They seem to have a whole new meaning. Happy Thanksgiving!
Aren’t deeplier and loudlier great words? I can;t imagine a day going by without reading at least a poem or two, just to find lines like “deeplier, deeplier, loudlier, loudlier”…
Soon the snow and wind will bend then break these stalks. Next spring green will return feeding on the winter waste.
Yep, the cycle repeats…and repeats…and repeats.
This one also reminds me of Doctor Seuss. Perhaps I have an unusual perception of things. I like it though.