somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond

a poem by e e cummings

somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility:whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands

poem for all truth seekers

Came across this yesterday in my Complete Poems of E. E. Cummings, and it's too lovely to not share. And in case you're wondering, there's no title because most of his poems are not titled except for a number, and that number goes by the order the poem comes within a collection. So this is poem 3 of 73Poems:

seeker of truth

follow no path

all paths lead where

truth is here

"Spring is like a perhaps hand"

by e e cummings, poem found here

Spring is like a perhaps hand 
(which comes carefully 
out of Nowhere)arranging 
a window,into which people look(while 
people stare
arranging and changing placing 
carefully there a strange 
thing and a known thing here)and

changing everything carefully

spring is like a perhaps 
Hand in a window 
(carefully to 
and fro moving New and 
Old things,while 
people stare carefully 
moving a perhaps 
fraction of flower here placing 
an inch of air there)and

without breaking anything.

poetry, earth, religion, beauty, science, Spring, etc.

The poet e e cummings touches on all of these things in his poem "O sweet spontaneous." I just started reading a collection of his work, which I am very excited about. He's a genius. The hard part is that it's difficult to share some of his work on Blogger because he uses so many indented lines and other spacing variations that Blogger doesn't keep the formatting for. And I can't get rid of the formatting - that's a part of his work. It's almost the same as cutting a line.... But, I did find a link to the poem, so you can read it in its original form. Please click on this link, it's so worth the minute it will take you. And then leave a comment about what you think of it.

If I was talking to you in person right now I'd be smiling.