Trying to let go of questions I cannot answer ~ till the next time

 

 Trying to let go of questions I cannot answer ~ till the next time 

The last month I have spent in mortal combat. Not a game but a struggle with questions I can’t find answers to. It’s a struggle I’ve been engaged in for much of my life, and at regular intervals it becomes all encompassing and utterly destructive. I am so tired of it, fighting something I can’t even see or name. The names I give it fail to convey the power it has to wreck me.

Having fought and lost, and failed to gain any ground in the exploration of the dark interior of my own soul, I’m handing over to a much better voice than mine own, a guy who fought a similar series of battles and put his thoughts into poetry that has long held a place in my heart. This is the final poem in a sequence of what were termed, The Terrible sonnets, not because they were badly written but because the subject matter was so devastating.

Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844–89).
 

47. ‘My own heart let me have more have pity on’

 
   
MY own heart let me have more have pity on; let
Me live to my sad self hereafter kind,
Charitable; not live this tormented mind
With this tormented mind tormenting yet.
  I cast for comfort I can no more get         5
By groping round my comfortless, than blind
Eyes in their dark can day or thirst can find
Thirst ’s all-in-all in all a world of wet.
   
Soul, self; come, poor Jackself, I do advise
You, jaded, let be; call off thoughts awhile         10
Elsewhere; leave comfort root-room; let joy size
At God knows when to God knows what; whose smile
s not wrung, see you; unforeseen times rather—as skies
Betweenpie mountains—lights a lovely mile.
   

 

 

Get your thinking caps on!

What links a not-very-successful medical doctor, a street in London, a seventies’ song that became a classic for it’s combination of soaring saxophone and electric guitar, and bee-keeping??

Tune in tomorrow for the answer and for some of you, a real thrill!!