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The stones were sharp, The wind came at my back Walking along the highway, Mincing like a cat.
Theodore Roethke
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Theodore Roethke
Age: 55 †
Born: 1908
Born: May 25
Died: 1963
Died: August 1
Poet
Teacher
Writer
Saginaw
Michigan
Came
Wander
Mincing
Back
Cat
Sauntering
Like
Stones
Trekking
Walking
Strolling
Along
Highway
Journey
Highways
Wind
Hiking
Walks
Sharp
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Let others probe the mystery if they can.Time-harried prisoners of Shall and Will -The right thing happens to the happy man.
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Long live the weeds that overwhelm My narrow vegetable realm! The bitter rock, the barren soil That force the son of man to toil All things unholy, marred by curse, The ugly of the universe.
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I am overwhelmed by the beautiful disorder of poetry, the eternal virginity of words.
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And I walked, I walked through the light air I moved with the morning.
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The fields stretch out in long unbroken rows. We walk aware of what is far and close. Here distance is familiar as a friend. The feud we kept with space comes to an end.
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Art is our defense against hysteria and death.
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I always felt mean, jogging back over the logging road,As if I had broken the natural order of things in that swamplandDisturbed some rhythm, old and of vast importance,By pulling off flesh from the living planetAs if I had committed, against the whole scheme of life, a desecration.
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In this place of light: he dares to live Who stops being a bird, yet beats his wings Against the immense immeasurable emptiness of things.
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I wish I could find an event that meant as much as simple seeing.
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I came to love, I came into my own.
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Fear was my father, Father Fear. His look drained the stones.
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I came where the river Ran over stones My ears knew An early joy. And all the waters Of all the streams Sang in my veins That summer day.
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All lovers live by longing, and endure: Summon a vision and declare it pure.
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