Thanks to my Creative Writing class I am being introduced to a lot of poems. While I’ll admit the only poem that truly has a soft spot in my heart is “The Road Not Taken” by Robert Frost- I have run across some that are just as good (I recently found out Robert Frost is too much of a simpleton to be discussed in college courses, this hurt my feelings, oh the elitism of academia!) The one I’m about to share is a little too deep and profound for most tastes- but it is short and I liked it’s message. Plus it was written centuries ago which is always a plus for me, it’s funny how some things never change over time 🙂
The world is charged with the grandeur of God.
It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
And wears man’s smudge and shares man’s smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.
And for all this, nature is never spent;
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs —
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.