Basil & Butterflies

I’m considering making a tradition of posting poems on Wednesday nights. It will encourage me to rediscover some of my favorite poems and find new ones. When I regularly read poems, I am a better writer, more conscientious of word choice and syntax, and able to transition easily to the world between words.

I also suspect that rekindling a regular relationship with poems will make me a better parent. Childhood exists in a poetic realm, where metaphors, similes, and imagination can rule experience. And, of course, rhythms and rhymes are building blocks of literacy.

For tonight, I offer Elizabeth Bishop’s poem, “Sonnet.” This poem begs to be read aloud at least three times. The phrasing is just delicious. Enjoy!

Sonnet (1928)

I am in need of music that would flow
Over my fretful, feeling finger-tips,
Over my bitter-tainted, trembling lips,
With melody, deep, clear, and liquid-slow.
Oh, for the healing swaying, old and low,
Of some song sung to rest the tired dead,
A song to fall like water on my head,
And over quivering limbs, dream flushed to glow!

There is a magic made by melody:
A spell of rest, and quiet breath, and cool
Heart, that sinks through fading colors deep
To the subaqueous stillness of the sea,
And floats forever in a moon-green pool,
Held in the arms of rhythm and of sleep.

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