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David Bethea's avatar

Beautiful, Spencer. Beatrice, Laura, Sophie. Soul-piercing beauty in the flesh that disappears into the past and then, once gone, is chased after into the future through art. The love Yeats had for Maude Gonne; how she incarnated a passion that was shot through with age old archetypes. Blok with his Beautiful Lady along with his Russia as wayward prostitute. Poets do this; they put themselves out there. “Great” poetry is gone; it’s no longer possible for one individual to lift up the entire culture through the music of his language. But perhaps something “great” will still take its place. One waits.

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Sierra Charlie's avatar

…”Novalis hoped to recover in a redeemed future what he had lost too soon in a tragic past.”

I suspect all of us, or most, have something or someone we lost, somewhere in the past, and we hope to see once again on the other side of life: a person, a beloved family pet—something. I know I do. More than one.

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