Priscilla, Thank you for this glorious, quiet essay about a poem unfamiliar to me. I think, without your explanation about what this meant on a NYT Opinion page, I would have read this as a poem about impish life sending us unwanted surprises instead of what we ask for. It's a rare poem that manages to bring such humane clarity to global events and politics. I'm grateful to know about this one, and just delighted to point people this way if they're looking for a dash of bookish enchantment. Your Library of Alexandria connection with this poem gave me chills. I'll be thinking about this scorpion all day.
And thank YOU so much, Tara, for setting up the question and the space for people to celebrate writing that enchants us. Library of Alexandria—so you're one of mine too! :-) I'm delighted you enjoyed it, and am so glad to connect with you here.
Isn't it an amazing poem? I'm so glad you enjoyed it, Gail, and thanks for letting us know. I had such a good time living with this poem and watching the layers of it unfold, like new gifts—all the pleasures that profound texts can bestow when we dwell with them awhile.
I love this intriguing poem and how you deepen into it layer by layer. The imagery and associations are profound in so many ways. This will stay with me especially the library in the lungs of a scorpion. We are all living records of being kin in our world. Thank you for this journey
"We are all living records of being kin in the world." Ooooo, I get chicken skin (as we say here) from this way of saying it! Yes, each of us a library, a living record. Each of us cataloguing the connections, the ties, the kinship. Just love it, Sally.
This really touches me, Priscilla. Thank you so much for sharing your experience and insight into a poem that I would not have read otherwise. Our need to be in relationship to the earth and all its creatures is deep and in my case, feels wounded and threatened more often than I normally acknowledge. Your words, and the poet’s words, help.
So delighted to hear, Lori, that it helps. I am in awe of the power of writing to help us reconnect with Earth. To help us remember how to be, as this poem does. Thank you so much for letting us know.
What a wonderful essay! As I read, I thought back to my experience of visiting Alexandria (in Egypt) and my encounters elsewhere with scorpions. So the essay reached me on many levels. Thank you!
As you can tell, Jeffrey, I don't associate scorpions with enchantment, so it was a surprise to me to feel at home in this poem—and it WAS an enchanting process to figure out why. I'm so glad you enjoyed it!
I haven't read or been part of a dissection of a poem like this since school. I was well and truly hooked. Each line gets to swirl around in your mouth, again and again, like wine tasting, sniffing all the notes and feeling all the accents. Every sip different from the next. Thank you.
I enjoyed listening to this this morning. Touched by the delicate unfurling of this poem's magic through your eyes, and intrigued by the Alexandria library metaphor and the connections with the dark side of Christianity, as I've been exploring the work of scholars who write on the alternative gospels lately. Thank you for your beautiful language and tender compassionate eye.
I'm so glad you enjoyed it, Morgan, and that you stopped by to let us know. Oh, you like the alternative gospels too! Do you read Elaine Pagels? I think she's my all-time favorite writer on the texts that didn't make it into the canon.
Priscilla, Thank you for this glorious, quiet essay about a poem unfamiliar to me. I think, without your explanation about what this meant on a NYT Opinion page, I would have read this as a poem about impish life sending us unwanted surprises instead of what we ask for. It's a rare poem that manages to bring such humane clarity to global events and politics. I'm grateful to know about this one, and just delighted to point people this way if they're looking for a dash of bookish enchantment. Your Library of Alexandria connection with this poem gave me chills. I'll be thinking about this scorpion all day.
And thank YOU so much, Tara, for setting up the question and the space for people to celebrate writing that enchants us. Library of Alexandria—so you're one of mine too! :-) I'm delighted you enjoyed it, and am so glad to connect with you here.
What a rich reading. Thank you ❤️
So glad you enjoyed it, Demian, and that you stopped by to let us know. Thank you.
Thank you, Priscilla, for bringing this powerful poem to our attention, and sharing your insights with such sensitivity and beauty. Gail
Isn't it an amazing poem? I'm so glad you enjoyed it, Gail, and thanks for letting us know. I had such a good time living with this poem and watching the layers of it unfold, like new gifts—all the pleasures that profound texts can bestow when we dwell with them awhile.
I love this intriguing poem and how you deepen into it layer by layer. The imagery and associations are profound in so many ways. This will stay with me especially the library in the lungs of a scorpion. We are all living records of being kin in our world. Thank you for this journey
"We are all living records of being kin in the world." Ooooo, I get chicken skin (as we say here) from this way of saying it! Yes, each of us a library, a living record. Each of us cataloguing the connections, the ties, the kinship. Just love it, Sally.
And this is a beautiful rephrase, this poem’s images amplifying through us and beyond our chicken skins !
This really touches me, Priscilla. Thank you so much for sharing your experience and insight into a poem that I would not have read otherwise. Our need to be in relationship to the earth and all its creatures is deep and in my case, feels wounded and threatened more often than I normally acknowledge. Your words, and the poet’s words, help.
So delighted to hear, Lori, that it helps. I am in awe of the power of writing to help us reconnect with Earth. To help us remember how to be, as this poem does. Thank you so much for letting us know.
What a wonderful essay! As I read, I thought back to my experience of visiting Alexandria (in Egypt) and my encounters elsewhere with scorpions. So the essay reached me on many levels. Thank you!
As you can tell, Jeffrey, I don't associate scorpions with enchantment, so it was a surprise to me to feel at home in this poem—and it WAS an enchanting process to figure out why. I'm so glad you enjoyed it!
I haven't read or been part of a dissection of a poem like this since school. I was well and truly hooked. Each line gets to swirl around in your mouth, again and again, like wine tasting, sniffing all the notes and feeling all the accents. Every sip different from the next. Thank you.
Mmmmm, Danielle, I'm feeling it! More delighted than I can say that you enjoyed the piece like this. Thanks for the rich image!
I enjoyed listening to this this morning. Touched by the delicate unfurling of this poem's magic through your eyes, and intrigued by the Alexandria library metaphor and the connections with the dark side of Christianity, as I've been exploring the work of scholars who write on the alternative gospels lately. Thank you for your beautiful language and tender compassionate eye.
I'm so glad you enjoyed it, Morgan, and that you stopped by to let us know. Oh, you like the alternative gospels too! Do you read Elaine Pagels? I think she's my all-time favorite writer on the texts that didn't make it into the canon.
I haven't found her yet! Thanks for the recommendation. I'm reading Cynthia Bourgeault at the moment.