Sunday, March 02, 2014

Our wild rumpus

Just a little heartache to get off my chest tonight. I had a fragment of a dream with Scott in it last night, a very bittersweet moment, and I think I've been missing him a little extra all day long as a result. This poem by E. E. Cummings ("i carry your heart with me") came to mind this afternoon and has been with me since.

Tonight I read Where the Wild Things Are to Clark.
Here's how it goes after the wild rumpus:
"Now stop!" Max said and sent the wild things off to bed
without their supper. And Max the king of all wild things was lonely
and wanted to be where someone loved him best of all.

Then all around from far away across the world
he smelled good things to eat
so he gave up being king of where the wild things are.

But the wild things cried, "Oh please don't go -
we'll eat you up - we love you so!" And Max said, "No!"

The wild things roared their terrible roars and gnashed their terrible teeth
and rolled their terrible eyes and showed their terrible claws
but Max stepped into his private boat and waved good-bye

and sailed back over a year
and in and out of weeks
and through a day

and into the night of his very own room
where he found his supper waiting for him

and it was still hot.
At first I was struck by Max's loneliness, his wanting to be loved most of all, his being tired of having to be in charge.  I identified with the kid. Except I can't hop in a boat and sail away.

Now I think that Scott's the one who sailed away, back to his true home, to a place of love.

The rest of us can roar our terrible roars of grief. But we still have this wild rumpus to attend to for a little while longer.

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
                                                        i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)


marian said...

"The rest of us can roar our terrible roars of grief. But we still have this wild rumpus to attend to for a little while longer."

Beautifully expressed as always.

Brenda Sproat said...

"Where the Wild Things Are" will have a whole new meaning when I read it in the future. A wonderful analogy.

masondixie100 said...

You are a beautiful writer and your grace and strength never fail to impress me. We think of you often and send our love and support. I, too, will never again read that passage without thinking of your family. Xo

Joe Kelly said...

you are sailing, too....