EVENING SONG by Tom Andrews (1961 - 2001)

The crickets go on with their shrill music.
The sun drops down.

What was it my brother said to me once
in Charleston, before he disappeared that spring
like the quick wake of a water mite.

This was 1980, evening, the porch lights burning.
He was reading from The Cloud of Unknowing.*

Robins gossiped from the poplars,
moths spiraled across the uncut grass.
Moonlight wormed through the neighboring lawns.

We must therefore pray... not in many words,
but in a little word of one syllable.

Didn't he say forgiveness was his homely double?
Didn't he say what I wanted him to say? Maybe
I wasn't listening, chewing a branch of sassafras...

But I doubt it. As I doubt, now, that the life
of my lawn is a still life, the moon and shrill chants

opinions on despair. These are times
when the sound the world makes is a little word.
Something like help or yes....

*an anonymous 14th century work of Christian mysticism

The Cloud of Unknowing


: "Take just a little word, of one syllable rather than of two ... With this word you are to strike down every kind of thought under the cloud of forgetting."

Mystical silence is accomplished by the same methods used by New Agers to achieve their silence . . . the mantra and the breath! Contemplative prayer is the repetition of what is referred to as a "prayer word" or "sacred word" until one reaches a state where the soul, rather than the mind, contemplates God.

d;-)

This is a much nicer poem. It's more sympathetic to my personal beliefs, so it would be easier for me to respond to. Also, I'm a real sucker for stuff like like the quick wake of a water mite and chewing a branch of sassafras....

I say go with the other one.

.

that's a sweet poem.......

.

Contemplative prayer is the repetition of what is referred to as a "prayer word" or "sacred word" until one reaches a state where the soul, rather than the mind, contemplates God.

mantra is not necessarily a universal technique to achieve contemplation denny. famous Christian contemplatives such as John of the Cross and Theresa of Avila do not advocate use of mantra. I don't recall either of them specifically denouncing the practice, either.

m.

Oh yeah. Mary Ann, I really liked this poem too. I love it when a poem says, 'read me again." This does and I will.

m.

While "mysticism" is normally associated with Eastern religions such as Daoism and Buddhism, there are also mystical sects within the Abrahamic religions - Jewish Kabbalah , Muslim Sufism, and Christian Gnosticism.
Mysticism is the pursuit of communion with or the conscious awareness of God through direct experience, intuition, instinct or insight.

In "EVENING SONG" by Tom Andrews, the narrator's brother is reading from "The Cloud of Unknowing" - a 14th century work of Christian mysticism which emphasises the repetition of a simple one syllable "prayer word" or "sacred word" until one reaches a state where the soul, rather than the mind, contemplates God - much like the Buddhist chant - Om Ma Ni Pad Me Hum of continuously"singing" Ommmmm . . . In the poem the brother reads -

We must therefore pray... not in many words,
but in a little word of one syllable.

The poem begins with a quick description of the sights and sounds of nature

The crickets go on with their shrill music.
The sun drops down.

And then the narrator awitches to a description of his brother

What was it my brother said to me once
in Charleston, before he disappeared that spring
like the quick wake of a water mite.

This was 1980, evening, the porch lights burning.
He was reading from "The Cloud of Unknowing."

A switch now back to Nature

Robins gossiped from the poplars,
moths spiraled across the uncut grass.
Moonlight wormed through the neighboring lawns.

Now back to the brother reading

We must therefore pray... not in many words,
but in a little word of one syllable.

And finally the narrator muses about the brother, before he disappeared, what he was saying about prayer and the sights and sounds of nature.

Didn't he say forgiveness was his homely double?
Didn't he say what I wanted him to say? Maybe
I wasn't listening, chewing a branch of sassafras...

But I doubt it. As I doubt, now, that the life
of my lawn is a still life, the moon and shrill chants

opinions on despair.

In the end, the narrator, I think, feels a bit guilty for not listening more closely to his brother. And he thinks about what nature is saying to him - the little words -

These are times
when the sound the world makes is a little word.
Something like help or yes....

d;-)

And within that text, it recommends the use of a "simple prayer word" - ie a chant - to reach mystical union with God.

Certainly others used other practices in their contemplation. Even some "New Age" practices use visualization rather than a chant. And some Sufi sects, like the Dervish achieve mystical union through "dance"

d;-)

denny, i'm pretty good at knowing what i'm discussing, thanks. and within that discussion you wrote:

Mystical silence is accomplished by the same methods used by New Agers to achieve their silence . . . the mantra and the breath! Contemplative prayer is the repetition of what is referred to as a "prayer word" or "sacred word" until one reaches a state where the soul, rather than the mind, contemplates God.

to which I responded:

mantra is not necessarily a universal technique to achieve contemplation denny. famous Christian contemplatives such as John of the Cross and Theresa of Avila do not advocate use of mantra. I don't recall either of them specifically denouncing the practice, either.

mine is an appropriate rejoiner to your unqualified statement. in fact, denny, i wonder if you aren't adding the qualifier now that I pointed out the inadequacy of your first statement? you're awfully hard to pin down, man.

m.

The Subject Line of that post was "The Cloud of Unknowing" - in specific reference to the poem which MaryAnn posted for comment. And that text, which I linked, specifically deals with the use of "little words" or "prayer words" to achieve a state of contemplation. The poem makes not mention of "other methods" - so I'm not sure how that applies to this analysis or discussion.

If you want to discuss John of the Cross and Theresa of Avila, that's fine. But they don't relate to this poem.

QED

d;-)

in 2 parts --

I think the important thing to remember is that it’s the missing brother who was reading from The Cloud of Unknowing, not the narrator. And since the brother is missing, I get the impression that he was unsuccessful in finding salvation or even peace in that book.

The poem begins in a typical manner – the narrator sitting alone listening to nature, which prompts a reverie about his missing brother. I really like the sound of (I’m learning to hear poems, folks) of “quick wake of a water mite.” And turning to meaning as well as sound -- does that phrase describe the brother’s existence? Does it describe the lack of an afterlife for all of us? The narrator at the beginning of the poem might be depressed and see / hear nature in a way that reflects his melancholy.

The stanza describing 1980 has a less stark description of nature – gossiping, spiral, uncut grass but also the word “wormed.” Folks, I’m so “into” poems about religion, I see that word as a reference to the snake in Eden. And the idea of someone’s backyard as a fallen Eden is straight out of poet Charles Wright.

The italicized stanza does several things – acquaints us with the kind of religious attitudes in The Cloud of Unknowing, suggests what the brother was attempting (or at least, reciting), and provides a phrase for the narrator to mull over. Be still, be quiet and listen.

I really like the next stanza. Is that really what the brother said? After all, the narrator wasn’t really listening to his brother back then. Maybe that’s just the narrator’s current spin on what his brother said. Maybe that’s what he wanted to hear.

Note the two uses of the word “doubt” in one line of the next-to-last stanza. It’s the narrator who is now experiencing a crisis of faith. But he is able to muster a bit of “faith” – no, the life of my lawn is not a still life; no, the moon and shrill chants are not “opinions of despair.” (Or, at least, that’s what he wants to think – see the beginning of my essay.)True, the sound of nature is not as clear or grand as what Emerson heard…

It’s just a “little word” – help or yes. I love that line. Sometimes the best we can pray is “help me, if anyone is out there” or “yes, the world is beautiful.” Such a modest approach to belief. So “genuine,” to use Marianne Moore’s word.

Along the way this summer, I’ve picked up some phrases to describe the religious poem of our post-Darwin world -- “The urge to pray outlasts the conviction that God will hear the prayer.” Man has “an innate capacity to adore.” It reflects “a religion based on doubt more than faith.”

I do believe I have just written a sermon for my local Universalist-Unitarian Church.

(But I think I might just use both this poem as well as Fenton’s…. as well as several others, including Monica’s fave – Martha Serpas’ “As If There Were OnlyOne.”)

Coincidentally, in my course, I'm using not one but two poems referencing The Cloud of Unknowing --

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING by Chase Twichell (b. 1950) In spring, the apple and cherry trees are cloudsin twenty shades of pink. Yet always,behind them, a vaster radiance flares.What I see, I see through drifts and veils –there must be cloud in me too. Snow is a cloud of distracting beauty,its tiny sharp flowers aloft with weightthey can’t bear. Each question must have a body.I know my body, so what is my question?Who speaks to me out of the blossoming cloud? * an anonymous 14th century work of Christian mysticism, which stated that we meet God in a Cloud of Unknowing.

Coincidentally, in my course, I'm using not one but two poems referencing The Cloud of Unknowing --

CLOUD OF UNKNOWING* by Chase Twichell (b. 1950)

In spring, the apple and cherry trees are clouds
in twenty shades of pink. Yet always,
behind them, a vaster radiance flares.
What I see, I see through drifts and veils --
There must be cloud in me too.

Snow is a cloud of distracting beauty,
its tiny sharp flowers aloft with weight
they can't bear. Each question must have a body.
I know my body, so what is my question?
Who speaks to me out of the blossoming cloud?

an anonymous 14th century book of Christian mysticism which stated that we meet God in a Cloud of Unknowing

This poem, MaryAnn, is likely to have your students running off to read the poem cited within the poem. There is nothing wrong with that.

I concur again with falcon, however: if the other poem, the lighter poem, if you will, creates some consternation, generates some serious debate, makes the readers think, why would you not, as teacher, go that way?

Take care,

Joe