Fianl Anthology: Love's Harmonic Voice

Love’s Harmonic Voice
An Introduction
Tickling butterflies, shimmering stars, velvety roses, and fluttering hearts…often we associate these things with the mortal phenomenon we know as love. Or do we really know it at all? To be truthful, it is much more than chocolates and candle lit dinners. Although the world today can seem often jaded in love’s definition, the eternal melding of two hearts into one is absolutely magical. It might not always be lovely, but it always shines with at least one element of beauty. That beauty is unique and individual to each person or persons involved. The beauty of love may be birthed through a kiss, a walk on the beach, or caring for a special friend in need. Or, on the contrary, love’s remarkable aesthetic may emerge from pain, loss, or a “coming to terms” realization that causes one to move on. Either way, love is an uphill battle, a slippery-slope, an endless journey, or a guided dream. It is often the act of losing yourself and finding your soulmate, or possibly even giving yourself in hopes that your target will reciprocate. But all in all, that twinkle in one’s eye is only created and confirmed by one deciphering action…falling.
For some of us, it happens only once. Others have the thrill and shame of stumbling over and over again. Unfortunately, in our society today, many people have “fallen out of love” with love. Hollywood, contemporary literature, fame, and the pursuasive media have worked overtime to feed the wounds we all have of love-gone-wrong. As a believer and true romantic, I feel this generation has been handed a grave injustice by having the option of not wanting love, not desiring love, or not “loving” love. I want to know how it feels to fall happily. Now, I am fully aware that love is surprising and, as I said earlier, very unique for everyone, but I want to discover a pattern that is attractive and wholesome. Rather than just hearing and knowing how everything shouldn’t be, until we feel it for ourselves, how do we know how it feels to fall?
In my opinion, there is nothing more magical or powerful than these “wild and whirling words” (32). I could choose no better text than the language of the heart itself…poetry. In searching, I found some great works that made my soul smile. These poems made me want to fall in love. I was inspired and lifted. Not necessarily because of their depth, great pursuasion, or insight, but these selections caught my eye because they were pure and true. I even included one of my own poems. Myself and the other authors obviously have a genuine respect and passion for love. As Plato put it so eloquently, “At the touch of love everyone becomes a poet” (www.quoteland.com). I can not say that each of the poets included in this collection have experienced true love. We really have no way of knowing that to be true or not. Also, I would not make the claim of knowing love fully for myslef either. I have recently begun the process of falling in love…to some degree. My piece is more of a hope or dream of what my “falling” encounter will include. I am pursuaded to believe that some of the other poets here are motivated in the same direction. It is a bold statement to say you know the art of falling in love and recognize the imminent power love contains. But instead, after reading it is clearly understood that each poet desires a true love, enjoys the thought of it, and expresses with greatness the gentle grip it holds on our souls.
There are a few poems I wish to elaborate on and preface before you read them. These are the pieces that speak the most to me as an author, a human being, and a hopeful romantic. The first two poems I have included are a definiton and dreamy example of falling in love and experiencing true love. Summer’s Shaded Trees, my own poem, and Hope, by Emily Dickinson, are the truest examples of pure love I have found. The piece I wrote is an illustration of one day along my journey of falling in love. The alliterations in Summer’s signifies the fluidity that love should bring. Then Hope lines out one huge element it takes to be able to fall. There is almost a melodic tone to both of these pieces. To me, love should begin as a melody that grows into the harmony of two hearts. By placing these two first, you should get a clear preface to the rest of the collection’s movement. Let us talk about the dialogue between Suffolk and the Queen from William Shakespeare’s history play, King Henry VI, Part II. A brief background, Suffolk and Queen Margaret are deeply in love although their love is forbidden. The Queen is married to King Henry but does not care for him as she does for Suffolk. She came to marry the King by customs of the times (i.e. trade, position, family) and has begun to realize he does not have her best interst at heart. She wishes that she would have never left her home and moved to England. Margaret feels that the King does not treat her like a queen or wife deserves to be treated. After her one true love, Suffolk, is accused of murder and banished from the kingdom, the two have a compelling dialogue written in a beautiful verse of iambic pentameter that proves to the reader how special they are to each other. Suffolk outraged and the Queen in dispair, she kisses his hand and commands him to go away so she can mourn. She declares that she will either find a way to have him called back into the kingdom or have herself thrown out to insure they will be together again. Shakespeare writes:
“Give me thy hand,
That I may dew it with my mournful tears;
Nor let the rain of heaven wet this place,
To wash away my woful monuments.
O, could this kiss be printed in thy hand,
That thou mightst think upon these by the seal,
Through whom a thousand sighs are breathed for thee!”
(841)
How beautiful! Not only does she desire to be with him forever, but she also longs to have her love shown to the world. Here, I believe the Queen is saying that she will be with him in spirit wherever he goes. And when they are together again one day, she will never be ashamed or afraid to proclaim her love in public. They will wear each other’s kisses with grace and joy. This is a definition of love…selflessness. It is a wonderful feeling to not be ashamed of what you feel or what someone feels for you. When we reach that point, that is when the truth is found. While falling, I hope to always wear a kiss from my beloved, either on my cheek, my hand, my lips, or upon my heart. Suffolk then joins her to say that he would live in the woods if it meant being with her. Because life with out Margaret is not worth living. Wherever she is, Suffolk desires to be most. He says, “For where thou art, there is the world itself, With every several pleasure in the world…” (841). Suffolk is so in love that he believes her presence is worthy of the entire earth’s attention. In his eyes, her beauty is equal to the most wonderful place on earth. Each of us could only hope to find and feel a love so pure and devoted as Suffolk and the Queen’s. I found familiarity between this selection and Meeting at Night, by Robert Browning. Both of these pieces talk about doing whatever is necessary to be with the one you love. Shakespeare explains that living in the midst of animals and trees with a lover is better than living apart from your soulmate. Browning writes about a long journey that is taken to meet the one you love. Crossing the sea and marshlands, fighting the weather and the night is all worth it when you, at last, hear your dear friend’s sweet voice.
Another poem I wish to address prior to your reading would be Love is Not, by Marcus Argentarius. The first line says, “Love is not just a function of the eyes” (1.1). It is possible that I chose to include this poem for that line alone. It danced off the page and into my heart as I read it. I thought, “I could not agree more!” Although appearance does matter (you have to be attracted to the person) it is so much more a matter of the heart. If the hearts of two people do not beat in rhythm, if their souls do not stand comfortably side by side, then a pretty face will not even matter. Falling in love is about admiring the crooked things, the dark corners of someone’s thought bank. You fall in love with querks and freckles just as much as blue eyes and chissled muscles. When you can smile at and love even those things, then I believe, as Argentarius put it, “that fire is genuine” (1.6-7). I believe that falling in love also takes hope. You must be able to see it as a living and breathing thing in order to obtain it. I like to link Emily Dickinson’s poem, Hope, with Love is Not. She says that hope perches in our souls. I think that love lands on us in the same way. Then, as she says of hope, love has the ability to keep us warm even in the most chilling storm. Therefore, it can not just be about looks and likenesses. Love must be about connections in our souls and spirits. We must hold onto love like we hold onto hope. Then, as we are falling, our connected souls can fly on the wings of hope and virtue.
Now, after you have fallen in love, it must somehow be sustained. After years and years of smiles and passion, how can it stay genuine? I wanted to find some poems that focused on this aspect of love. I landed on one most common and one not so common. Sonnet XLIII, by Elizabeth Browning, and I Loved You First, by Christina Rossetti. I really enjoy how Browning makes a list in her poem. As stated, she literally “counts the ways” (49)…with every breath, with all her depth, with passion, as far as her soul can reach, with purity, and with grace. Rossetti says that love makes you as one unit. “Rich love knows nothing of ‘thine that is not mine’”(183), says Rossetti. According to her, love knows no claim of his or hers. Both of these poets have a great revelation of love making two souls exist as one. Even with uniqueness and personality all our own, when we have fallen, our heart’s should mirror each other with an undeniable sheen of love.
Hopefully my efforts to elaborate and educate will increase you. I pray you read these pieces with an open mind and heart. My desire is for you to recall some of these words when analyzing your falling experience. I began this project knowing only what I had felt for myself. Now, I can lean on hopes, dreams, desires, and lessons of other writers that exercised their craft to record true love. I am grateful and forever in debt to each of them and still many more. May you find true love and fall confidently with grace!


Summer’s Shaded Trees

Let’s sit under the shade of this tree together
The taste of summer, spring’s old air, is soft like cashmere
It rolls through the wind as if it’s in the circus
These leaves will soon be brown and red, now bright and green
Don’t waste any more time, come and soak it in
Breathe in the smell of blue oceans, lillies, and peace
While you read a book I’ll play, hoping you catch the words im saying
My love is the deepest red, our friendship the freshest yellow
Blowing dandelions we’ll laugh and sing
If we wait on the sun to set, the kiss will be forgotten
No, do it now, do it often!
Today I am as lonely as I’ll ever be
I feel more alive than I deserve
What is it about the summer wind and sunshine through trees
That makes us feel like cotton candy, sweet and at ease
The ground is warm, an iron smoothed dust, perfect with poise
I could watch her speak for hours, smiling and frowning
Telling stories about her past, greatest fears and victories
She’s the closest I’ve been to something so real
Like a new strand of pearls or a pianist set free
I could swear to never let it die, but then I would lose it all
Instead I’ll breathe in the now, watching summer show its power
Shimmering August, how I wish you would stay
We will wait for you here. Will you meet us again?
Hand and hand in honesty, your shaded stretch so comforting.
by Jennifer Hallam

Hope

Hope is the thing with feathers 

That perches in the soul, 

And sings the tune--without the words, 

And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard; 

And sore must be the storm 

That could abash the little bird

That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land, 

And on the strangest sea; 

Yet, never, in extremity, 

It asked a crumb of me.
by Emily Dickinson

Love Is Not

Love is not just a function of the eyes.
Beautiful objects will, of course, inspire
Possessive urges - you need not despise
Your taste. But when insatiable deisre
Inflames you for a girl who’s out of fashion,
Lacking in glamour - plain, in fact - that fire
Is genuine; that’s the authentic passion.
Beauty, though, any critic can admire.

by Marcus Argentarius (20 BC-30 AD),
Translated by Fleur Adcock (1934- )

King Henry VI, Part II
Act III.2, lines 345-372

QUEEN MARGARET
O, let me entreat thee cease. Give me thy hand,
That I may dew it with my mournful tears;
Nor let the rain of heaven wet this place,
To wash away my woful monuments.
O, could this kiss be printed in thy hand,
That thou mightst think upon these by the seal,
Through whom a thousand sighs are breathed for thee!
So, get thee gone, that I may know my grief;
'Tis but surmised whiles thou art standing by,
As one that surfeits thinking on a want.
I will repeal thee, or, be well assured,
Adventure to be banished myself:
And banished I am, if but from thee.
Go; speak not to me; even now be gone.
O, go not yet! Even thus two friends condemn'd
Embrace and kiss and take ten thousand leaves,
Loather a hundred times to part than die.
Yet now farewell; and farewell life with thee!

SUFFOLK
Thus is poor Suffolk ten times banished;
Once by the king, and three times thrice by thee.
'Tis not the land I care for, wert thou thence;
A wilderness is populous enough,
So Suffolk had thy heavenly company:
For where thou art, there is the world itself,
With every several pleasure in the world,
And where thou art not, desolation.
I can no more: live thou to joy thy life;
Myself no joy in nought but that thou livest.
by William Skakespeare


Meeting at Night

The gray sea and the long black land;
And the yellow half-moon large and low
And the startled little waves that leap
In fiery ringlets from their sleep,
As I gain the cove with pushing prow,
And quench its speed i' the slushy sand.

Then a mile of warm sea-scented beach; 

Three fields to cross till a farm appears; 

A tap at the pane, the quick sharp scratch 

And blue spurt of a lighted match, 

And a voice less loud, through its joys and fears, 

Than the two hearts beating each to each!
by Robert Browning


I Loved You First... (from Monna Innominata)

I loved you first: but afterwards your love,
Outsoaring mine, sang such a loftier song
As drowned the friendly cooings of my dove.
Which owes the other most? My love was long,
And yours one moment seemed to wax more strong;
I loved and guessed at you, you contrued me
And loved me for what might or might not be—
Nay, weights and measures do us both a wrong.
For verily love knows not 'mine' or 'thine';
With separate 'I' and 'thou' free love has done,
For one is both and both are one in love:
Rich love knows nought of 'thine that is not mine';
Both have the strength and both the length thereof,
Both of us, of the love which makes us one.
by Christina Rossetti

"How do I love thee? Let me count the ways..."

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with a passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints, --- I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life! --- and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Music

Music, when soft voices die,
Vibrates in the memory –
Odours, when sweet violets sicken,
Live within the sense they quicken.
Rose leaves, when the rose is dead,
Are heaped for the beloved’s bed;
And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone,
Love itself shall slumber on.
by Percy Bysshe Shelley

Works Cited

Argentarius, Marcus. “Love is Not”. Love Poems. Washington, Peter, ed. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1993. 25.

Browning, Elizabeth Barrett. “Sonnet XLIII”. 100 Best Loved Poems. Smith, Philip, ed. Canada: General Publishing Company, Ltd., 1995. 49.

Browning, Robert. “Meeting at Night”. Love Poems. Washington, Peter, ed. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1993. 121.

Dickinson, Emily. “314 (254)”. The Norton Anthology of Poetry. Ed. Alexander Allison, et al. 5th ed. New York: W.W. Norton Company, 2005. 1114.

Plato. www.quoteland.com. Information retrieved 2 December 2007.

Rossetti, Christina. “I Loved You First”. Love Poems. Washington, Peter, ed. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1993. 183.

Shakespeare, William. “The Second Part of Henry the Sixth”. The Complete Pelican Shkespeare. Montgomery, William, ed. New York: Penguin Books Inc., 2002, 816-857.

Shelley, Percy Bysshe. “Music”. Love Poems. Washington, Peter, ed. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1993. 243.