My Attempt to Think Like a Poet

One of the biggest issues that has bothered me in Honors Lit this semester has been the discussions we held in class concerning Emerson. I've been remembering all that I've learned and struggled with this semestesr, and the whole of issue of Nature and Man and Nature of Man...it still is on my mind. I wrote this a little while ago...I am definitely NOT a poet, but maybe it makes some semblence of sense. Writing is how I process things...I thought, since Emerson was a poet, I might try a little to put my thoughts into poetry. TRY being the key word here. :)

Is it possible to let go of all,
Leaving my thoughts, beliefs, my world behind?
Is there a garden alive since the Fall?
I am commanded to ask, seek, then find.
I must go then; become transparent, Eyes!
The one who seeks not, still breathing, dies.

Welcome me, Nature! I come to your heart.
Open wide, woods! Show me the way to Truth.
I bring with me no book, nor song, nor art.
I want no answer that elsewhere holds proof,
But only the knowledge that you hold here,
That stood long before my life on this sphere.

What draws me to you, Oh Sister of mine?
You keep all the secrets I long to hold.
Have you known since the beginning of time
While I have searched since the days of old?
Speak to me now! My soul burns like a fire
To know and be known; fulfill my desire!

Why silent remain, you whose voice so loud
Rings with thunder and the crashing of waves?
Reveal what I seek; or are you too proud
To share the Truth, locked in your deepest caves?
Please, my Sister, have compassion on me.
My eyes are open; still I cannot see.

Then Nature whispered these words, quietly,
“Little Sister, I am older than you.
I remember the day you came to be.
Yet you are greater than I; you are new.
By the same Creator we both were made.
You have forgotten. His truth does not fade. `

You left the Garden where He dwelled with us.
He made me first, and after spoke your form.
Then He took part of me – gathered my dust
And breathed into you; there your soul was born.
We have been different from that very hour.
You hold his breath, the depth of His power.

He uses me to reveal His story,
His likeness is shown in my night and my day,
But your bear His image – weight of His glory.
Why in the Garden did you choose to stray?
He would touch me when He came to our land,
But He would walk with you, holding your hand.

You turned from the Garden and wandered far,
Yearning for Truth but only forgetting.
Yet sometimes in the night you saw a star,
And you would watch the glowing sun setting.
Your heart would receive a glimpse of its birth,
When you could not hear, He would speak through Earth.

For this reason to me you are drawing,
For you have known what Truth I bring.
It is Him moving me, His voice calling,
Not a new but eternal song I sing.
I am made for His glory to be shown,
As are you, Sister. Now return home.

This is my Truth: He is the same today
As He was in the beginning of time.
His revelation has led you this way,
And nothing I, Nature, claim as mine.
I do not contain Him in caves or in trees.
He made all, rules all, and always will be.”

My eyes were opened, by nothing I did.
I walked out of the woods as a new man.
I wondered at what silent Nature said.
My whole life I had sought to understand.
Truth is not found in books, nor song, nor art;
This is the thought that rang inside my heart.

They, with Nature, bearers of Truth abide.
Al l dwell within the Creator of all.
I asked, I sought, He alone did I find.
Outside of the trees, to my knees I fall.
I bear the Image of Truth – in Him blind.
Seeing with His eyes, more than an eye-ball.