Astonishment - Dec 4 2021

 

Astonishment

Dec 4 2021

Astonishment

only happens

when you least expect it.

You can be receptive

surrender

revel in the high,

but it can't be conjured or contrived.

Because it leaves you breathless

ecstatic

transformed.

Blindsides

whipsaws

mind blows.

Chasing the high

and wanting more.

Dissatisfied

with your humdrum routine

and mere existence.

When was I last astonished?

Have I ever truly felt it?

Something that left my eyes wide

heart racing,

knees weak

and mouth agape?

Have you wondered, as well?

A time you felt the earth move,

fell in love

gave birth

been dumbstruck by beauty?

It's not always stars exploding

a rupture in the universe.

It might have been small

quiet

ineffable,

not amenable

to words.

But in either case, it leaves you tongue-tied,

when even a poet concedes

language is inadequate.

That there are mysteries and marvels

that defy explanation,

puzzles

that can't be analyzed away.

A chill, a heat, a flush.

A thrill, a surge, a rush.

A feeling in the gut

that is so utterly sublime

you can only surrender

heart over mind.

In my reading today, I stumbled across this word. Not even reading, just a cursory glance at something. But it immediately caught my eye, and riveted me. What a rarefied exalted feeling it speaks to. And what an unusual word, since it so rarely applies. Or if it is used, it's probably a case of word inflation: the debasement of language, when superlatives get over-used and drained of their power. The same way “awesome” has been rendered meaningless, and Facebook has made “friend” the same as acquaintance, lurker, voyeur.

For some reason, anatomical metaphors recur in this poem. Perhaps because this is a visceral feeling, not cerebral. It's felt in the body, not the brain, and can't be intellectualized or logically analyzed. As the poem says: surrender, don't explain.