The lizard on the wall, engrossed,
The sudden silence from the wood
Are telling me that I have lost
The possibility of good.
I know this flower is beautiful
And yesterday it seemed to be,
It opened like a crimson hand.
It was not beautiful to me.
I know that work is beautiful.
It is a boon. It is a good.
Unless my working were a way
Of squandering my solitude.
And solitude was beautiful
When I was sure that I was strong.
I thought it was a medium
In which to grow, but I was wrong.
The jays are swearing in the wood.
The lizard moves with ugly speed.
The flower closes like a fist.
The possibility recedes.
The sudden silence from the wood
Are telling me that I have lost
The possibility of good.
I know this flower is beautiful
And yesterday it seemed to be,
It opened like a crimson hand.
It was not beautiful to me.
I know that work is beautiful.
It is a boon. It is a good.
Unless my working were a way
Of squandering my solitude.
And solitude was beautiful
When I was sure that I was strong.
I thought it was a medium
In which to grow, but I was wrong.
The jays are swearing in the wood.
The lizard moves with ugly speed.
The flower closes like a fist.
The possibility recedes.
There is
danger in believing solitude is the all encompassing escape, refuge, and inspiration
of originality and creativity. And perhaps staying in a place for so long that
the magical qualities are gone and becoming disenchanted with the once
wonderful is just as important. This poem strikes a chord with me because I could
see myself becoming in the future a botanist or forester, which would require immense
amounts of solitude. The thing is, I am not scared of solitude, but rather I find
comforting at times, just as at times a large crowd can become a frightening
and/or dull place. I believe that Fenton was conveying the necessity of being brutally
honest with ourselves, which is exemplified by stanza four, and especially when
“I was sure that I was strong.” If we are not careful, we can isolate ourselves
in an environment that is not suited for us “in which to grow,” but will stunt
us and stifle us, whether that is in Isolation, like the environment of the
poem, or in the opposite spectrum Publicity, which can be almost just like Isolation, but with different lizards and flowers.
Thank you for putting this poem up, I have been looking for it for a while.
ReplyDeleteI agree this poem is discouraging a self-sufficiency that many try to strive for. Because isolation makes us feel "strong", it shows itself as a very deceiving desire- there is no such thing as self-sufficiency, we constantly are depending on everyone.
Notice how he knows that the flower is beautiful, yet when it invites him or "opened like a crimson hand" that beauty turned to distaste due to its desire for fellowship.
I agree that
If we are not careful, we can isolate ourselves in an environment that is not suited for us “in which to grow,” but will stunt us and stifle us, whether that is in Isolation, like the environment of the poem, or in the opposite spectrum Publicity, which can be almost just like Isolation, but with different lizards and flowers.
but we must be careful about what we mean by environments not suited for us. Sometimes that can be an excuse not to step outsides our comfort zone, which is where most growth occurs.