A jealous Zephyr—not a doubt—
Ah, friend, You little knew
How long at that celestial wick
The Angels—labored diligent—
Extinguished—now—for You!
It might have been the Light House Spark—
Some Sailor—rowing in the Dark—
Had importuned to see—
It might have been the waning Lamp
That lit the Drummer— from the Camp—
To purer Reveille—
-F322, J259, Fascicle 36
This poem has already been beautifully commented on in this blog by Susan Kornfeld back in 2012. (12 years ago!) See F322. The reason I am re-posting the poem now is because, if, instead of Franklin's order, we were following the order of the poems as Dickinson preserved them in the fascicles, then this poem would be the next one up in fascicle 36.
I will usually just skip a poem if it has shown up earlier in Franklin's order and Susan has already commented on it, but I wanted to revisit this one because it is one of my favorite Dickinson poems. Also, I am invested in seeing the poems in context in the fascicles. Each fascicle may be read, I am convinced, as a cogent work.
It reminds me that any jealous thought, which means ANY attachment, puts out the light that shines within. If we could only truly realize how hard the angels (which may be read as the divine, or, at the very least, the generations before us) have labored to light this flame in us, then surely we wouldn't blow it out so carelessly with our petty jealousies.
And what is lost? It is not just our own light at stake, but the light of some other souls who may well have been guided by ours.
This poem is a "purer reveille." It's hard to imagine a better way of saying "wake up." This is the kind of poem that has the power to change a life. It is the star it urges you to be.
-/)dam Wade l)eGraff
I had a conversation my HS poetry class about this poem. At first I read this an admonission not to be jealous. That the "You" this poem was addressed to, put out their own light. But the class has half convinced me that the "jealous Zephyr" could be time, or death, or fate, or Zeus (since Zephyr is a Greek word for West Wind) clouding over your light/life. Part of your "light," after all, stems from the fact that you are mortal, which they are not. If that's the case, than the poem appears to be about making the most of your light, because you never know when you are going to be taken by jealous death. You only have a little while to be the light house spark for the sailor, or the waning lamp for reveille drummer.
ReplyDeleteBut if we take that "jealousy" into account, make it "accountable" for the loss of light, then I still think you can argue that jealousy, like death, snuffs out the light of life. Both interpretations dovetail together: shine while you can, and don't let any jealousy cast a shadow over you.