This week: A Total Eclipse of the Heart ... err Sun Edited by: Fyn-elf  
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On the nones of June the Sun was covered by the Moon and night.~~Cicero referring to eclipse of 21 June 400 BC.
High on her speculative tower
Stood Science waiting for the hour
When Sol was destined to endure
That darkening of his radiant face
Which Superstition strove to chase,
Erewhile, with rites impure.~~William Wordsworth The Eclipse of the Sun, 1820
And the moon in haste eclipsed her, and the Sun in anger swore He would curl his wick within him and give light to you no more.~~Aristophanese
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Initially, we (Hubby and I) thought to drive a couple hours south, into Ohio, to be able to experience totality. A bucket-list thing for him--road trip beckons! Oh, but wait. Supposed to be cloudy, over 60%. He Googles, checks, triple checks The Weather Channel. "Might as well stay home," says he. "It'll be 90+% here and only about thirty percent clouds."
"Oh, but are you sure? Wouldn't you rather take the chance and maybe get to see the corona? If we don't go down there, it'll be clear for sure, and cloudy here!" He was quite sure he'd made the right call, so we stayed home. Fought the clouds. And, as it turned out, was crystal clear where we'd planned on going. Ah well. There's another when we are 90! No biggie!
Me? I fought my new cell camera and expensive welding glass to get mediocre pictures. But the neighbors (perhaps thirty of them, all in a clump) were in the street. Most, wearing 'Eclipse Glasses' perched on their foreheads talked through the majority of the eclipse. But then, when someone said it was approaching the fullest it would be for us, quiet reigned. No one said a word for about five minutes. Not even a dog barked. It wasn't dark where we were, but even the birds were quiet. Surreal. Silent.
Then a dog barked. A robin sang. Several conversations picked up from where they had stopped mid-sentence. One of the neighborhood toddlers giggled at something. We live on a short, dead-end road. Most everyone was out there. Had we thought about it, it might well have continued into a mass cookout! But, people wandered home. Hubby mowed the yard for the first time this year. I went back to an edit. Life went on.
Yet ... ideas are mosying 'round in my head. I can feel the poem coming on. There was just this feeling. Not like in days of old ... no portents of evil or feelings of doom. Our neighborhood 'family' all gathered together and experienced something rare. Special. Kind of magical in a way. I need to write my feelings out.
It's what I do. What WE as writers do. Talking with friends later, I discovered something else. Depending upon where we were at the time, we all had different perspectives of the eclipse. We were in different places around the country. Some had cloudy skies and other ones of brilliant blue. And yet. And yet our comments, our feelings were very much the same. Even far apart, we experienced them together. It reminded me, in a sense, of 9/11. (Although in a far happier way.) We shared the eclipse and for those moments, we all stopped. We communed with nature at its finest and with each other.
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Beholden  writes: You didn't ask a question! But I have an answer anyway. And it is this: if you dare to write poetry, your unconscious mind will insert more meaning into the words than you were aware of. Sometimes you'll see those meanings in a later reading, sometimes you won't. But they're there and someone is bound to dig them out. Don't write poetry if you don't want to be known.
Monty  says: If you look deeper than the surface of any writer's works, I guarantee most would, just like me, carry a review of 4.5 on items reviewed. Easy just step into their shoes. I have a poem about two roads inspired by Robert Frost.
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Poetry: April 10, 2024 Issue [#12502]
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