Musings on a Rainy Saturday Morning in June

It would be painful if I had to choose only one shelf of books for the rest of my life. I'd need a longer shelf than the one above--it would have to include a Complete Works of Shakespeare and a good dictionary, as well as at least half a dozen books of poetry (cummings, Mueller, Kunitz, Auden, many others), and countless picture books. But these are among my all-time favorites, ones I will continue to read over and over.

Between semesters (I'm there now, briefly), I seek the sunlight, knit (recently, Mobius "showls"), stroke my cats, drink in the mockingbird's song, and devour books. I've read through the Guido Brunetti mysteries and am partway through the Gemma James-Duncan Kincaids; I interspersed these with technology texts and other potential readings for the courses to come.

My thoughts return often--when I have time to think of anything other than the next essay assignment or comment on a student's paper--to the Auden poem, "Musee des Beaux Arts" ("About suffering they were never wrong,/ the Old Masters..."). Recently Allan's brother showed us an amazing film, "The Mill and the Cross," based on a Breughel painting, as Auden's poem is (though not the same one). In looking up the exact text of "Musee" I came across another of WHA's poems, "September 1, 1939" at http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15545. He ends,

"We must love one another or die.
Defenceless under the night
Our world in stupor lies;
Yet, dotted everywhere,
Ironic points of light
Flash out wherever the Just
Exchange their messages:
May I, composed like them
Of Eros and of dust,
Beleaguered by the same
Negation and despair,
Show an affirming flame."

May I remain one of the just, exchanging messages.

02June12