But the moon and I.


The last light has gone out of the world, except
This moonlight lying on the grass like frost
Beyond the brink of the tall elm’s shadow.
It is as if everything else had slept
Many an age, unforgotten and lost
The men that were, the things done, long ago,
All I have thought; and but the moon and I
Live yet and here stand idle over the grave
Where all is buried. Both have liberty
To dream what we could do if we were free
To do some thing we had desired long,
The moon and I. There’s none less free than who
Does nothing and has nothing else to do,
Being free only for what is not to his mind,
And nothing is to his mind. If every hour
Like this one passing that I have spent among
The wiser others when I have forgot
To wonder whether I was free or not,
Were piled before me, and not lost behind,
And I could take and carry them away
I should be rich; or if I had the power
To wipe out every one and not again
Regret, I should be rich to be so poor.
And yet I still am half in love with pain,
With what is imperfect, with both tears and mirth,
With things that have an end, with life and earth,
And this moon that leaves me dark within the door.

-Edward Thomas

moon & white sky www








photo from Internet

4 thoughts on “But the moon and I.

  1. What a beautiful poem – what a feel! It tastes good to the mind. But the middle – some parts there are so mentally thick I can’t consume them well. And it’s 4:00 a.m., and my brain cannot hang onto the words and meanings well enough to grasp. But thank you.


  2. Such tangled thought — it reminds me of my own earnestness when in college, when I caught existentialism like the measles and had to suffer it through. The contrast between the purity and simplicity of the photo and the poem is remarkable — precisely because of that, they fit together well, and evoke even more thought than the poem alone would.


    1. I agree, Linda, it is a pretty good example of the kind of mind meanderings we humans are really good at, those that lead more often than not to depression and worse — unless we can manage to steer the process in the direction of a soul-orienting thankfulness. Thank you for drawing my attention to the photo-poem contrast; your interactions with my posts is a wonderful demonstration of what I love about blogging.

      Liked by 1 person

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