One of Emily Dickinson’s poems begins
A great Hope fell
You heard no noise
The Ruin was within
Oh cunning wreck that told no tale
And let no Witness in
but in my case you do hear noise:
1. I go over to my parents’ house and tell them about it, so
2. I let a Witness in
3. (this afternoon by reading them a different Emily Dickinson poem, and my commentary on it*)
4. and then I go home and put on the Paula Cole CD Courage
Then (or during) I laugh and drink wine. And fix dinner. (Which cannot be fixed without music and wine. But that’s another story.)
So, yes, a great hope fell, recently, but one I will survive, as I have survived many others, and I will laugh, drink wine, and be glad I have parents, friends, a husband, kids, and other fine Witnesses! (Though I am telling no tales!)
I’ve mentioned Paula Cole here before, and the wonderful Courage album, picked up, used, at a sidewalk sale, for $5 at exactly the right moment. Hm, why does that moment keep recurring?!
Really, this album always consoles me and keeps me going, restores my courage. I love her honesty and vulnerability:
And I’ve forgotten who I used to be.
And I’ve forgotten the woman in red, living her dream.
And I’ve forgotten the courage I used to be.
Then there’s a refrain of repetition that is best heard sung: “I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know, And I try, and I try, and I try, and I try, and I try….”
I love, love, love her courage and conviction, in the first song on the album, “Comin’ Down,” saying, “I’ll shoulder the weight,
Of feeling emotions in a deeper shade
I’ll be the one who puts them to song
And liberate the heartache comin’ down.
So, I was reading to my parents about “trembling on the brink of the abyss without falling in” while trembling on the brink of the abyss without falling in.
Which, you know, ultimately, is funny!
Or, as Paula Cole would (and did) say,
So please forgive me all my seriousness,
My so-called spirituality,
I’m just a mess.
I’m tears and anxiety,
But I’m unafraid to See.
And I did not fall off the brink, either. And was able to comfort a few poets, later, on Facebook. (Sigh…) And was given, earlier today, by a dear heart, Ginny, The Book of Men, by Dorianne Laux, because I told her I was lusting after it, and she completely understood! (It has a hilarious cover, and beautiful interior!)
*as, wooee, one of “today’s finest poets,” wooee (did I say, “Wooee!”?), according to Richard Jones in Poetry East, #74 & 75, Spring 2012: Great Poems
Please forgive me my moments of self-congratulation. It helps me not fall off the brink. Into a pool of wine. (Or into a pool of whine.)