I can't remember if I've posted any Denise Levertov or not. This is one of my favorites.
The Thread
Something is very gently,
invisibly, silently,
pulling at me-a thread
or net of threads
finer than cobweb and as
elastic. I haven't tried
the strength of it. No barbed hook
pierced and tore me. Was it
not long ago this thread
began to draw me? Or
way back? Was I
born with its knot about my
neck, a bridle? Not fear
but a stirring
of wonder makes me
catch my breath when I feel
the tug of it when I thought
it had loosened itself and gone.
What is the thread, I wondered? Destiny? Fate? The working out of one's own personal tikkun? The call to follow Christ? All I know is, a thread pulls me, and more insistently as I age.
I think the genius of the poem lies in the fact that she doesn't tell us what the thread is. It could be any of the things you list, or something else entirely; the poem lends itself to multiple interpretations. That's not easy to do (and still have a coherent poem), and it's always impressed me about this one.
Posted by: Rachel | August 11, 2005 at 05:57 AM
Dude! You forgot so quickly! Here's the thread. ;>)
Posted by: Dr E | August 11, 2005 at 09:23 AM
Rachel, I'm going to have to work harder to find poems you don't know... you and I clearly have similar tastes!
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