avatarDavid Goodwin

Summary

The poem "Levity" reflects on the gradual process of unfolding one's life, emphasizing the importance of patience and the beauty of growth over time.

Abstract

The poem "Levity" delves into the intricate process of personal growth and self-discovery, likening it to the careful act of unfolding. It suggests that this journey is not to be rushed but rather approached with the wisdom that comes with the passage of years, not merely the fleeting days. The narrative acknowledges the resilience within, where one nourishes oneself with dreams from the past, often forgetting the inherent strength and potential for change, much like springs that are tensile. The speaker recounts a period of deep exploration, mining rich experiences for moments of beauty and insight, akin to finding silver to illuminate one's story. Despite the ambivalence encountered, a space is carved out, a village surrounded by sunflowers, symbolizing a connection to the earth and the divine. The poem concludes with a vivid recollection of joy and vitality, where the act of dancing and reaching for the sky is a testament to the universal yearning for light and life.

Opinions

  • The author values the slow and deliberate process of personal growth, suggesting it should not be rushed.
  • There is a sense of nostalgia and appreciation for the past, as it provides sustenance for the present and future.
  • The poem conveys an underlying resilience and potential for transformation that individuals possess.
  • The act of searching for beauty and meaning in life's experiences is seen as a valuable pursuit.
  • The poem reflects on the idea that moments of joy and connection serve as reminders of our innate desire for happiness and fulfillment.

Levity

Photo by Bogomil Mihaylov on Unsplash

Unfolding is a delicate art and should be attempted slowly.

The years are your friends here the days a vague acquaintance met in passing and

though you might not know it, folded safely into corners and nourishing yourself from old spools of dream, we are springs that often forget we are tensile.

. . .

I spent years mining your rich earth, sifting soil for silver to string across my story like lambent stars

then beneath their patient ambivalence I carved out a clearing, built a village ringed by sunflowers keeping your dirt on my fingers like God’s phone number.

. . .

Because sometimes you still dance in eucalypt, strong arms grabbing blue fistfuls of sky

and down in the dirt I remember again how lustful all things are for the light.

Poetry
Growth
Loss
Love
Trauma
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