Monday Morning Musings:
“But, soft! What light through yonder window breaks?
It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.”
William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act II, Scene 2
“Then, window, let day in, and let life out.”
William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act II, Scene 5
“Unfix’d yet fix’d,
Ever shall be, ever have been and are,
Sweeping the present to the infinite future,
Eidolons, eidolons, eidolons.”–Walt Whitman, “Eidolons” from Leaves of Grass
“There’s this phenomenon called the overview effect. It’s this cognitive shift that many astronauts go through when they see Earth for the first time from space. They describe it as feeling this overwhelming sense of humanity. In space you see that we’re all in this together. Astronauts leave the Earth as technicians, but they come back as humanitarians.”
—Amanda Nguyen, Rape Survivor, Founder of Rise, Astronaut in Training
Open that vast window
time lives in our embrace
kissing ghost and angel breath
from ocean, sky, and naked dirt
giving poetry to life
for eternity
Open that vast window
we experience the world
through our senses
trying to find rhyme and reason
the ghosts flit and echo
souls and poetry intermingle
past and future merge
Here we sit in a vineyard,
drinking wine named for a poet’s verse,
watching performers speak the words of a writer long gone
his words echo through the centuries
opening windows to worlds we wouldn’t know
as Juliet opened hers to Romeo
time floats
unfix’d yet fix’d
Here in this space
the sky is an open window,
vast with promise and possibility
we hear night birds trilling and calling,
a bird
(or is it a bat?
I learn eidolon is also a genus of bats)
swoops to catch an insect
while below,
players thrust and parry with swords and wit
life and death around us
windows opening and closing
unfix’d, fix’d
eidolons
Later, I remember one of our daughters
spoke Juliet’s words,
it was an audition
for a college theater grant,
leaving home
(the overview effect occurs only then)
a window appears
she opened it,
and in a theater,
(eidolon-filled)
finds her sun,
and he burns brightly
for her,
eclipsing everything else
We see another play,
before it begins
we listen to the people near us talk,
they’re all involved in theater,
the woman sitting to my left, we learn,
is in a play in another theater that night
she plays the grandmother—again!
they all laugh
the light dims
our play begins,
one actor on the stage here in Philadelphia,
the other in London
they communicate through SKYPE–
live theater
the wonders of high-speed connections–
we see his house in London
on screens
like windows
but he looks through windows, too
seeing the present, imagining the future
The play is set in the near future
the butterflies have died,
but new ones have been created
along with other animals and plants
like chaos theory
or dominos
each extinction creates another
each creation has unknown effects
people rebel and resist
ecological warfare, starvation,
the world owned by a corporation
a better world
through gene manipulation,
what could possible go wrong?
After the show,
we walk across the street
from a story of the future
to a building of the past
on this hot, summer day
we wander
see flowers still growing
(sigh of relief)
the sixth extinction may have started
but it’s not visible here yet,
not to untrained eyes,
birds flit and sing
we stop for ice cream
see a wedding, and another, and another
(couples beginning new lives
closing doors, opening new windows)
I find openings everywhere
windows from the past
looking at the present,
I wonder if ghosts wander here
do they experience an overview effect?
seeing Earth, their lives now from a new perspective?
unfix’d, fix’d
eidolons
We head home
the sky darkening
the sun not visible through the clouds,
and the thunder rumbling–
but in the morning
it rises in the east
shining through my window
(the present)
poetry of the here and now
sweeping to the future
There was a dVerse prompt on windows last week that I missed, but I suppose I’ve been thinking about windows. The Oracle gave me the first stanza. She really is all-knowing.
We visited Auburn Roads Vineyards. We saw Tiny Dynamite’s production of Perfect Blue at the Christ Church Neighborhood House.
Windows, what apt metaphors. Love “Romeo & Juliet.”
Thanks, Cindy.
There are such great lines in that play. 🙂
Our paths are definitely in synch…is it the oracle?
The sky always makes me think of windows…(K)
It could be the oracle.
Yes, the sky and windows.
Or Jane’s portals. 🙂
Of course we can’t forget the portals!
😉
There is something so awesome (and I mean it literally) in the way you thread these images together, the earth, the sun, light, windows, ghosts and bats wandering in and out. We’re out there with the astronauts then watching a sunset through a window, or a sunrise. Such a lot of impressions your words leave.
Thank you so much, Jane. That is such a wonderful comment! I appreciate it. I think it’s just the way my brain works. 🙂
I like to follow your thought patterns, or at least to let the flow carry me along.
Thank you! 🙂
🙂
Shakespeare, Whitman, Nguyen, and YOU all in the same post. I’ve always liked the idea of closing door facing open windows.
An afterthought: Your musing about your theatrical daughter reminds me of our 9-year-old grandson in theatre camp just now. That sort of drama we can handle – ha!
Thank you for taking time out on your birthday to read and comment, Marian! I’m happy to be linked with all the names you mentioned, even if it is simply in the same sentence. Haha.
I hope your grandson enjoys theater camp! (Are you implying there’s normally other drama from him?) 🙂
Yes, he dresses up like Harry Potter all the time and has learned the Michael Jackson moon walk. Another performer in the family, I guess.
invokes a lot of conjurings: no present without the past, no future that isn’t rooted in the present; or as Laurie Anderson’s take on Walter Benjamin’s take on Klee’s Angelus Novus: “And he said: History is an angel being blown backwards into the future / He said: History is a pile of debris / And the angel wants to go back and fix things / To repair the things that have been broken / But there is a storm blowing from Paradise / And the storm keeps blowing the angel backwards into the future / And this storm, this storm is called Progress
and is it possible to get the overview effect while rooted in spot, or as Wallace Shawn put it in My Dinner with Andre: “Tell me, why do we require a trip to Mount Everest in order to be able to perceive one moment of reality? I mean… I mean, is Mount Everest more “real” than New York? I mean, isn’t New York “real”? I mean, you see, I think if you could become fully aware of what existed in the cigar store next door to this restaurant, I think it would just blow your brains out! I mean… I mean, isn’t there just as much “reality” to be perceived in the cigar store as there is on Mount Everest?”
Or to say it another way, isn’t any place in any moment a kind of window if we want it to be.
like i said invokes a conjurings 🙂
Wow–when you comment, you really comment. I’m glad I inspired some much conjuring!
And yes, I think any moment could be a window. Reading someone’s musings, for example, could do it. 😉
Windows… there are windows everywhere, I think. I see them in nature as the old oak tree frames the marsh at sunset or the grasses by the pond frame the water and the loblollies on the far bank.
And time… past and future. We watched “Arrival” over the weekend, exploring the concept of time as circular rather than linear. Not a new thought, and one that I sometimes think I can almost grasp.
I try not to think about the sixth extinction. When I do, I wonder what will survive, what will evolve from what survives.
Your weekend sounds hot, but lovely, Merril, and once again, I love the way you connect the dots of so many subjects in your musings. 🙂
Thanks so much, Robin. (And also for loblollies, which is so much fun to say or think.)
I really enjoyed “Arrival,” and yes, I am with you in almost being able to grasp that concept of time.
The world as windows and doors. We can ignore any one we choose, but choosing to explore, instead, Is what life really is about.
A good point. Thanks, Ken.
We WILL meet one day :)! Maybe go to a show and a winery together!
Oh wouldn’t that be wonderful, Luanne! I do hope it happens.
Yes!
🙂
A very beautiful post cleverly constructed – even Skype presumably fits the Windows theme
Thank you very much, Derrick. The play was actually performed in London first with the roles reversed.
I peek through these portals and see all the wonders of your world! Your husband cracks me up — he must love to laugh as you do, too, I sense. Lovely words and photos!
Thanks so much, Rose. He does, and we do. 🙂
Of course, this is one week after my daughter Caroline married Daniel. I am entranced by all the windows, loved the pastel lavender and peach photo. The picture of you looking back at your husband was so sweet.
The vineyard with the spoken theatrical production was splendid and fitting. Ending with the Oracle and window again, so sweetly wrapped up. Take a bow, Merril.
Aww–you are sweet, Robin. Thank you! 🙂