I never read Anne of Green Gables when I was a little girl. Heck... I never even read anything by Jane Austen until a few years ago. Just not quite my cup of tea I suppose. Anyways, Anne of Green Gables was written by beloved author, Lucy Maud Montgomery, who, unbeknownst to me had also written poetry, which I didn't find out about until I was in my twenties. She was a famous Canadian writer, known for her cherished children's stories, which I had never read, and I knew very little about her. I have a book of her poems which I know that I read through at some point, but the only one that stood out in my mind, or with my poor memory, was one regarding Sorrow as a companion. Tonight, as I was reading over at Thormoo's blog, this poem came to mind. I knew I still had that book of poems, but I went online to search as I figured it would be faster. I found a few sites and scanned through the list, clicked on a few, but couldn't find it, so I went to grab the book. It didn't take me too long, just skimming through the titles. It was called "The Revelation".
The Revelation
by Lucy Maud Montgomery
Once to my side a veiled figure came
To bear me company,
Deeming that Sorrow was her bitter name,
I strove from her to flee.
She clasped my hand in hers and led me on
Beneath a clouded sky;
Till many dour and dreary days had gone,
Right sullenly went I.
But as time passed I grew to love my guide.
No more escape I sought;
At last contented by her gentle side
To learn the lessons taught.
Then lifted she her veil and showed to me
Her calm eternal youth.
"Lo! Mortal, who has known my ministry,
Behold me - I am Truth."
All I know is that this poem struck a chord with me years ago when I first read it, enough so that it would remain in my memory.
Lucy Maud Montgomery was born in 1874 and died in 1942. What I found out tonight is that she suffered from severe depression and took her own life, at the age of 67.
Posts
6 comments:
It's the law of charades.
Comics are very angry people.
People who about hope feel hopeless.
Fat people write weight loss books.
Thin people BBQ with impunity.
Just seems to be the way of the world, these charades.
D:
You missed a verb?
What you wrote reminded me of the premise behind that "disease of Perfection", and also an old Henry Mancini song.
Yes, I didn't write "write." However, writing as a creative medium is in itself limiting. So perhaps a better verb is 'create.'
C'est ci bon?
Yes, the disease of perfection employs the law of charades. In this application what folks feel is so terrible they feel compelled to turn into a creating, positive energy. But, as with Shiva, what creates can also consume, a la Kali.
Which Mancini song? The Pink Panther? Peter Gunn? Or something more Breakfasty at Tiffany's?
D:
Oui, merci.
Ah... for some perhaps... create and consume or create and destroy. For others, writing is simply a voice calling out from the darkness, even if it is just a whisper.
As for the song, it was this one. No... never saw the movie, I just happen to have a Henry Mancini songbook.
"Charade"
Heh - should have guessed
Yeah, you deserved a "Doh!" for missing that one.
Post a Comment