geo geller

December 29, 2013

poetry

Filed under: — admin @ 11:36 pm

This poem by TS Eliot was written as he was “growing into his eldership” as David Whyte calls his waning years. It was written from a place of late-blooming love and happiness, during the good marriage he made in his last years.

East Cocker, Four Quartets

Old men ought to be explorers.
Here and there does not matter.
We must be still and still moving
Into another intensity
For a further union, a deeper communion
Through the dark cold and the empty
Desolation.
The wave cry, the wind cry, the vast waters
Of the petrel and porpoise. In my end
Is my beginning.

No Comments »

No comments yet.

RSS feed for comments on this post. TrackBack URL

Leave a comment

Powered by WordPress