I have a Pantheon of Poets, of which I am a humble disciple….
Frost, Whitman, Sexton, Dickinson, Plath, Huxley, Shakespeare, Keats, Byron….
Many names of Goddess and Gods…
I see their reflections in my work…I see their fingerprints on my words…
and I am always filled with joy to see how they influence my mind…
but if I am to visit my own private Olympus…there is one who has always mirrored Zeus in my mind…
Alfred, Lord Tennyson
and his poem, “Ulysses” is my holy book….the one place where I can always reconnect with the love I have in my soul
And the final part; humbly submitted here…fills me with such emotion that I have never been able to read it out loud.
Happy World Poetry Day, My Fellow Wordsmiths…
May the light of poetry always shine as brightly as it does in my heart
There lies the port; the vessel puffs her sail:
There gloom the dark, broad seas. My mariners,
Souls that have toil’d, and wrought, and thought with me—
That ever with a frolic welcome took
The thunder and the sunshine, and opposed
Free hearts, free foreheads—you and I are old;
Old age hath yet his honour and his toil;
Death closes all: but something ere the end,
Some work of noble note, may yet be done,
Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods.
The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks:
The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deep
Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends,
‘T is not too late to seek a newer world.
Push off, and sitting well in order smite
The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths
Of all the western stars, until I die.
It may be that the gulfs will wash us down:
It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,
And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.
Tho’ much is taken, much abides; and tho’
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are;
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.
– Alfred, Lord Tennyson “Ulysses”