Eclipse Meditation

There Was a Boy

There was a Boy; ye knew him well, ye cliffs
And islands of Winander! most a time,
At evening, when a earliest stars began
To pierce along a edges of a hills,
Rising or setting, would he mount alone,
Beneath a trees, or by a glimmering lake;
And there, with fingers interwoven, both hands
Pressed closely palm to palm as well as to his mouth
Uplifted, he, as by an instrument,
Blew impersonate hootings to a silent owls
That they might answer him.And they would shout
Across a watery vale, as well as shout again,
Responsive to his call,with quivering peals,
And prolonged halloos, as well as screams, as well as echoes loud
Redoubled as well as redoubled; concourse wild
Of funny din! And, when there came a pause
Of overpower such as confused his most appropriate skill:
Then, sometimes, in which silence, whilst he hung
Listening, a peaceful shock of amiable surprise
Has carried distant in to his heart a voice
Of mountain-torrents; or a visible scene
Would come in unawares in to his mind
With all its honest imagery, its rocks,
Its woods, as well as which uncertain heaven received
Into a bosom of a solid lake.

William Wordsworth, 1798

I listened to a producer David Whyte read this Wordsworth square last night as partial of workshop recording we have of his. This was partial of my extended imagining in tie with a solstice as well as lunar obscure we had overnight. we chanted a precepts, listened to David's talk, as well as sat in overpower until 1am, about half an hour after a obscure started.

Hearing this poem stood out for me for a couple of reasons. First, when we was an English major, we really disliked Wordsworth. we regularly called him "the guy who got his difference worth" since his poems regularly seemed so long-winded. I'm mean, who writes a multiform hundred page key to another poem (which never! really got written by a way)?

Anyway, we was sitting upon my zafu listening to a poem being read, when we heard these difference a second time:

And there, with fingers interwoven, both hands
Pressed closely palm to palm as well as to his mouth
Uplifted, he, as by an instrument,

Suddenly, we saw gassho climb up by me. Not just an image, though a experience of gassho-ing. As if we were "an instrument" for gassho.

After a poem finished, we got up as well as clicked back to listen to it again, as well as this time there was this:

Then, sometimes, in which silence, whilst he hung
Listening, a peaceful shock of amiable surprise
Has carried distant in to his heart a voice
Of mountain-torrents

At a end, we turned off a recording, as well as sat back down in silence. Those difference kept rattling around with me as we sat, until eventually we turned to demeanour out a window during a back of me. The sky was cloudy, though we knew a now to some extent eclipsed moon was there.

I listened.

Something was rattling outward a window. Falling ice? Squirrels? A person?

It didn't matter what. This was a call as well as reply of hold up during a moment. Bigger than anything I, or Wordsworth, or any one could capture, though including us too. Yes, including us too.