How many bees are there
in a day?
Which yellow bird
fills its nest with lemons?
Why do trees conceal
the splendor of their roots??
Pablo Neruda
When the Chilean poet Pablo Neruda died in 1973, just shy of his 70th birthday, on his desk were eight manuscripts he was preparing for publication. Though Neruda was ill at the time, he was not at death’s doorstep. Many Chileans (and others) believe the cause of his death was heartbreak. His beloved country had been taken over by a U. S. backed coup d'etat. His friend, Chile’s president, Salvador Allende and many, many others were murdered or disappeared.
One of the manuscript’s Neruda left behind was El libro de preguntas, The Book of Questions. The volume is comprised of playful poem-questions, imaginative queries, such as the ones above, in which the answer isn’t the point. It’s the questions that matter. Copper Canyon Press brought out a beautiful translation by William O’Daly. This book has thrilled me for a long time.
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Walking Questions
Are the birds happier on cloudy days? Is that the reason they sing more loudly? Why do some of the most gruff looking people become soft-faced and sweet-voiced when approached? Why, knowing this, do I still hesitate to say hello? How long will it take for time and wind to scatter the dead dove’s feathers from the path? How about its tears? How did my nephew Josh, when he was a little boy, learn to walk in the woods and see every tiny thing? Now that he is a becoming a man, does he still? What if my feet had never found their way? How come, when I’m out walking I don’t feel any age—neither old nor young nor anywhere in between? How does the cricket know to stop chirping the moment before I get close? When there’s a will there’s usually a way, so how come when there’s a way there’s not always a will? Bird with the tiny silver bell voice, I’ve never heard before, what’s your name? And what will you eat for dinner? Out in the woods alone, I hear my name called over and over. Who’s calling me? Why do I never find you? Are you the one who brings me back over and over to this place?
Posts
Hi, Patrice! I'm happy to follow your blog and will try to get regular comments to you.
ReplyDeleteAll best,
Ethel
This brought tears to my eyes- sweet images and ponderings, very familiar to me. It warmed my soul to read that someone else has some of my same questions. Reminds me how nurturing being alone in nature is- and how the creativity and curiosity start flowing within a short time of beginning a walk. I'm a science teacher now and this affirms for me the importance of building on this natural curiosity with my high school students. I'm going to buy the Book of Questions- I remember when you shared it with me before and how much I liked it. I'm inspired to incorporate more poetry and journaling into my science teaching!
ReplyDeleteI must be technically challenged because I can't figure out how to post my comment...still trying:)
ReplyDeleteVirginia Lee
The quality and quantity of your postings are a real inspiration to me. Thanks for being a good writerly example.
ReplyDeleteOK, got it!
ReplyDeleteI share your love of nature because it's where I go when I need to have a conversation with God (which I have come to believe is my higher, more divine self). And where I know I will find answers to those inner questions that elude my words, the ones life seems to generate just to keep the mystery alive.
When I was living in Ukraine, I noticed how the Ukrainians revered their sojourns in the park...it's where parents would stroll with their children, lovers would steal an intimate kiss on a park bench, friends would meet for a spontaneous picnic & where lonely pensioners would walk their dogs — all escaping the confines of their small, crowded apartments.
As for me, it's where I could go soothe my soul and connect with the oneness we share as humans, to live in this world where the wind always blows, the leaves always rustle, the sun always sets and rises, the water always flows and the moon shines down upon the world with her broad, bright smile every single month. And all this happens all over the world regardless of what language is spoken on the street.
So when a Ukrainian friend would ask me, "Shall we go to walk in the Nature?" I would answer, "Yes! Tak! Da! Si! Oui!" Davae...
"What if my feet had never found their way?"
ReplyDeleteWhat if I keep the cage around my heart and the sparrow can't get out and scavenge and sing? What if love and song and summer light stay trapped? What if the trail through the forest? What if crumbs? What if the cage still around my heart?
Hi Patrice! This is so exciting!! What a marvleous idea and such a beautiful site! It just feels so peaceful and serene! You are so very inspirational! I can't wait to read each and every magical and poetic word of all of your postings! Thank you so much! (Oh,I too am going to get the Book of Questions!)
ReplyDeleteLesa Medley
"How come, when I’m out walking I don’t feel any age—neither old nor young nor anywhere in between?" Yes! Isn't it amazing? I think I'm drawn to walk out in wild, unpopulated places just so I can fall into the arms of such unknowingness.
ReplyDeleteMe, I often feel young when I wander in the woods, so young and so curious and happy too xoxo R
ReplyDeleteThis question especially: "How long will it take for time and wind to scatter the dead dove’s feathers from the path?" Out walking in the hills and hidden valleys where I come from, one eventually learns that "these things shall pass" and, if we're very lucky, we learn to cherish many of those things on an immediate basis, even some of the bad ones.
ReplyDeleteYou take me to nature
ReplyDeletewhen I cannot get there.
You are the first
I've followed.
Linda
The reason I write is to attempt to answer all the questions swirling in my mind. Thank you for sharing your beautiful questions and Neruda's too!
ReplyDeleteFor a week, the question I wanted to ask Shirley the elephant seal was "What exquisite longing brought you to the beach at Carmel Lagoon, what instinct this would be a sanctuary where you would be safe to shelter and molt?" I share that sense as I walk the shoreline and strip away old titles, old realities and old "shoulds". What would the passing, grinning gulls say?
ReplyDelete