Do Not Stand at my Grave and Weep

Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft star-shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die.

– Mary Elizabeth Frye

Submitted by:
Ashwin Kumar

Postscript:
This is a consolation, an acceptance of death as natural and inevitable. The imagery is very vivid, and the voice gentle. It reminded me of a number of poems dealing with this theme, with this one (a favourite, by Millay) being exactly opposite in view and tone.
You can read a bit about Mary Elizabeth Fry and how the poem came to be here.

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Published:
June 19, 2012 – 08:00
Author:
By Madhu
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Instead of a Farewell

To meet and say farewell
to this part of me
that turns and returns
with a different partner
in a square dance,
meeting before I begin to see,
seeing after I have done
with meeting,
squaring at last in a glimpse
the ancient circle of you and me:

how can I say farewell
when farewells are made
only for people who stay
and only for people
who go away?

-A.K. Ramanujan

Submitted by:
Sriram Vittalamurthy.

Postscript:
Ramanujam is a favourite – you may have come across him previously here, here, and here.
You can read more about him here, here, and here.

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Published:
June 18, 2012 – 08:00
Author:
By Madhu
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Comments:
2 Comments

How to Read a Poem: Beginner’s Manual

First, forget everything you have learned,
that poetry is difficult,
that it cannot be appreciated by the likes of you,
with your high school equivalency diploma,
your steel-tipped boots,
or your white-collar misunderstandings.

Do not assume meanings hidden from you:
the best poems mean what they say and say it.

To read poetry requires only courage
enough to leap from the edge
and trust.

Treat a poem like dirt,
humus rich and heavy from the garden.
Later it will become the fat tomatoes
and golden squash piled high upon your kitchen table.

Poetry demands surrender,
language saying what is true,
doing holy things to the ordinary.

Read just one poem a day.
Someday a book of poems may open in your hands
like a daffodil offering its cup
to the sun.

When you can name five poets
without including Bob Dylan,
when you exceed your quota
and don’t even notice,
close this manual.

Congratulations.
You can now read poetry.

– Pamela Spiro Wagner

Postscript:
I like the conversational tone, the calm statement of what is needed to understand poetry – openness, courage, surrender.
You can read more about Pamela Spiro Wagner here.

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Published:
June 17, 2012 – 08:00
Author:
By Madhu
Categories:
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None