Thank you, Holly. "Child's Christmas in Wales" is glorious, isn't it? Though I tend not to celebrate Christmas in a big way, I go back to that work from time to time. Thank you for sharing that great story about Lark Ascending, which I also love and had originally intended to mention in the essay. There are larks here in Tokyo where I now live, which is a source of joy to me.
There are many beautiful songbirds where I live, but, as I was just discussing with my mother and sister, none of them sing while flying, as the lark is described as singing. Migrating flocks communicate by honks or twitters, but no single bird gives its pretty song while on the wing.
Hallelujah! I knew I'd enjoy your post. :-) I love that it's not only about poetry and enchantment and birds and outdoor life but also about rereading, thanks to Hazlitt's eloquent testimony that a book can “bind together the different scattered divisions of our personal identity.” There's an argument for rereading right there. Our great (or poetry-addled) minds were thinking alike. I have a post coming up soon about a childhood poetry anthology. I did not have the Hazlitt passage at hand, but I can understand how it felt writing this one and calling up those old enchantments. I wish there were more poetry anthologies for middle-grade readers. I keep an eye out for them, knowing how formative this kind of book was for me. Thank you for this post that has left me with a smile and an appetite to go on a bird-walk tomorrow. :-)
Thank you so much, Tara! The community is once again in your debt for this wonderful initiative. I happened to be reading that essay by Hazlitt (On Reading Old Books) when I saw your invitation to write about enchantment. How’s that for a bit of magic?
My mother introduced me to this poem when I was about 14--the birthday poem, as I thought of it then and still do. What a marvel. Although Thomas was young when he wrote it, the joy soars over a current of foreboding. Thanks for the return visit.
Reading your eloquent essay is a delightful way to start my weekend! Dylan Thomas is one of my favorite poets too, and I love teaching his poems (and sharing his passionate poetry readings) including "Poem in October" with my students. Every time I read his writings, I am captivated anew by his luminous imagery & cathartic intensity--an ephemeral redemption through praise of creation's splendor. So glorious!
What a meaningful full circle moment as perhaps your engagement with this poem so many years ago is foundational for your current Substack journey--allowing you to project your own "heart's truth." Thanks for helping me to see this beloved work from a new perspective!
Thank you so much for your comment! I'm delighted to hear that you also enjoy his poetry. Luminous is a great way to describe his imagery. I'm sure you are helping to spark similar feelings in your students.
You are very welcome! You have the soul of a teacher, and I hope that you will have an opportunity to teach formally in the future if you are not already enjoying some type of instructional role.
What a beautifully enchanting poem weaved into your life. I enjoyed your posts earlier about farm life and coming 'home'...this adds another rich layer!
How lovely to have such a personal connection to a work of art. I, too, remember falling in love with poetry in high school English. So much so, that I must have raved about it because my best friend gave me a huge book of poetry through the ages for my 16th birthday!
A beautiful paean to poetry, Jeffrey, bringing back to me the joy of discovering books as a child and the exhilaration of my later initiation into the English poetic tradition at university. Thank you again for your writing.
Thank you, Troy. I think it’s wonderful that these lines worked for us in a similar way. Perhaps our childhood imaginations were tuned to similar frequencies?
What a glorious poem and beautiful posting, Jeffrey. Your writing so often invites me on journeys I didn't realize I needed to take and I thank you for that! And after a week's worth of rain (continuing as I write), I can only dream of larks in our clouds...
Thank you for your lovely comment, Lori, I'm sorry to hear about the weather, though. I'm really glad to hear that the post took you on a journey. Thomas' poem does that every time I read it.
I need to read more Dylan Thomas - I am only know well his 'Child's Christmas in Wales', of which his reading is a family Christmas tradition.
The English/Welsh lark does not live in North America, yet English poetry is so full of the lark that I feel that I would know one if I saw or heard it. Growing up, I loved Vaughan Williams' 'Lark Ascending' - whenever it started to play on the radio I would pause whatever I was doing and just listen - I became a good enough violinist that I played it for a friend's wedding, although I think learning its technicalities took away a little of its magic.
Thank you, Holly. "Child's Christmas in Wales" is glorious, isn't it? Though I tend not to celebrate Christmas in a big way, I go back to that work from time to time. Thank you for sharing that great story about Lark Ascending, which I also love and had originally intended to mention in the essay. There are larks here in Tokyo where I now live, which is a source of joy to me.
There are many beautiful songbirds where I live, but, as I was just discussing with my mother and sister, none of them sing while flying, as the lark is described as singing. Migrating flocks communicate by honks or twitters, but no single bird gives its pretty song while on the wing.
It is pretty amazing to see a lark soaring and singing.
Hallelujah! I knew I'd enjoy your post. :-) I love that it's not only about poetry and enchantment and birds and outdoor life but also about rereading, thanks to Hazlitt's eloquent testimony that a book can “bind together the different scattered divisions of our personal identity.” There's an argument for rereading right there. Our great (or poetry-addled) minds were thinking alike. I have a post coming up soon about a childhood poetry anthology. I did not have the Hazlitt passage at hand, but I can understand how it felt writing this one and calling up those old enchantments. I wish there were more poetry anthologies for middle-grade readers. I keep an eye out for them, knowing how formative this kind of book was for me. Thank you for this post that has left me with a smile and an appetite to go on a bird-walk tomorrow. :-)
Thank you so much, Tara! The community is once again in your debt for this wonderful initiative. I happened to be reading that essay by Hazlitt (On Reading Old Books) when I saw your invitation to write about enchantment. How’s that for a bit of magic?
Way to go, Hazlitt. How perfect. Another #SubstackSerendipity. Haha.
😊
My mother introduced me to this poem when I was about 14--the birthday poem, as I thought of it then and still do. What a marvel. Although Thomas was young when he wrote it, the joy soars over a current of foreboding. Thanks for the return visit.
Thank you, Rona. It's lovely to reflect how this poem has nourished us over the years.
Years in which we got to be considerably (in my case) older than Thomas ever did.
Jeffrey,
Reading your eloquent essay is a delightful way to start my weekend! Dylan Thomas is one of my favorite poets too, and I love teaching his poems (and sharing his passionate poetry readings) including "Poem in October" with my students. Every time I read his writings, I am captivated anew by his luminous imagery & cathartic intensity--an ephemeral redemption through praise of creation's splendor. So glorious!
What a meaningful full circle moment as perhaps your engagement with this poem so many years ago is foundational for your current Substack journey--allowing you to project your own "heart's truth." Thanks for helping me to see this beloved work from a new perspective!
Thank you so much for your comment! I'm delighted to hear that you also enjoy his poetry. Luminous is a great way to describe his imagery. I'm sure you are helping to spark similar feelings in your students.
You are very welcome! You have the soul of a teacher, and I hope that you will have an opportunity to teach formally in the future if you are not already enjoying some type of instructional role.
Loved it! Yet again, your writing sends me on journeys of discovery 😊
I'm so grateful to have you as a reader, Nicola! 🙏
What a beautifully enchanting poem weaved into your life. I enjoyed your posts earlier about farm life and coming 'home'...this adds another rich layer!
Thank you, Kate!
How lovely to have such a personal connection to a work of art. I, too, remember falling in love with poetry in high school English. So much so, that I must have raved about it because my best friend gave me a huge book of poetry through the ages for my 16th birthday!
Hi Lani, do you still have the book?
Yes, it’s in storage back in the States! xo
A beautiful paean to poetry, Jeffrey, bringing back to me the joy of discovering books as a child and the exhilaration of my later initiation into the English poetic tradition at university. Thank you again for your writing.
Thank you so much for your kind words, Pauline! I'm very glad that this post stirred up some good memories.
"But all the gardens
Of spring and summer were blooming in the tall tales
Beyond the border and under the lark full cloud."
Boy does that just capture my most treasured imaginings of childhood. Beautifully evocative, Jeffrey!
Thank you, Troy. I think it’s wonderful that these lines worked for us in a similar way. Perhaps our childhood imaginations were tuned to similar frequencies?
Could be - I've always been a city mouse, though.
Oh, Jeffrey. This was gorgeous! Enchanting in deed. I was enamored of both the poem itself and of your connection to it.
Thank you, Holly. Coming from you, a writer of such magical prose, that means a lot to me!
I didn't know this poem. It is a music of nature's magic one would expect from Thomas. Thank you.
Thanks, Jay, and I'm glad you enjoyed the poem!
Beautiful post! Thank you!
Thank you for reading and your kind comment, Erica!
What a glorious poem and beautiful posting, Jeffrey. Your writing so often invites me on journeys I didn't realize I needed to take and I thank you for that! And after a week's worth of rain (continuing as I write), I can only dream of larks in our clouds...
Thank you for your lovely comment, Lori, I'm sorry to hear about the weather, though. I'm really glad to hear that the post took you on a journey. Thomas' poem does that every time I read it.
I need to read more Dylan Thomas - I am only know well his 'Child's Christmas in Wales', of which his reading is a family Christmas tradition.
The English/Welsh lark does not live in North America, yet English poetry is so full of the lark that I feel that I would know one if I saw or heard it. Growing up, I loved Vaughan Williams' 'Lark Ascending' - whenever it started to play on the radio I would pause whatever I was doing and just listen - I became a good enough violinist that I played it for a friend's wedding, although I think learning its technicalities took away a little of its magic.
I often think I don't like Thomas's poetry. And then something like this reminds me that he could have some trust wonderful moments.
Thank you, June. Not all of his poems quite work for me, either. But this one feels like pure airy delight to me.
I’ve not encountered this poem before, so thank you, Jeffrey and thank you Tara Penry for the concept.
“And the true joy of the long dead child sang burning in the sun” reminds me of the ‘infinity moments’ Rumi Tsuchihashi and discussed this week, and which she shared an example of in her weekly Nudge (https://open.substack.com/pub/rumitsuchihashi/p/134-infinity-moments)
Thank you for your kind words and for sharing that link, Michelle!