Adrienne Rich is a poet whom I’ve just begun to admire. She has an essay that I would like to share. It’s a reflection on a famous poem she wrote titled Aunt Jennifer’s Tigers. I’ll give you the poem first. I found both of these things in An...
1. Window. Window. The wind’s eye to see into the wind. The eye in its hollow looking out through the black frame at the waves the wind drives up the river, whitecaps, a wild day, the white sky traveled by snow squalls, the trees thrashing, the corn blades...
The Mountain Eye There’s something in the mountain eye— a wild root, or a fresh Spring. In looking, I see An altar—an offering Out to me of what Inward has become the creation I can’t Grasp in this walled City of...
E. Pauline Johnson was the daughter of an American Indian chief and an English lady. She became a poet and this is one of hers poems. At Sunset Tonight the west o’er brims with warmest dyes; Its chalice overflows With pools of purple colouring the skies, Aflood...
But often, in the world’s most crowded streets, But often, in the din of strife, There rises an unspeakable desire After the knowledge of our buried life: A thirst to spend our fire and restless force In tracking out our true, original course; A longing to...