Swing Valley

Back from vacation. Back to reality. Back to those lovely boys that color my life with the chaos of trouble.

Swing Valley

Oak or elm-I can't see it
clearly anymore, but it was the tallest thing
in that hollow, and someone
always managed to shinny up
to the farthest branch with the end
of a tarred rope to knot there.

Swinging our we moved
from the side of one hill over
the blind rush of bramble
to graze the shoulder of the other bank
and arc back home again.

Summer, winter, summer, of course
those old ropes rotted now and then,
and Carvalho rode on to a parting,
flying down through the deep tangles, still
sitting on the knot, his hands clutching
the rope as the bitter end
trailed down like a plume of smoke.

We thought he was all right
when we heard the bushes moving,
and he was. The earth still loved us then,
and the sky watched over us
just as in these stories we heard
about the miracles of the saints,

and a few days later we went up
with another rope, hawked
from the wharf after dark,
and one by one we ran it down,
jumped the knot and swept
across the hollow,

feeling the release, and then the pull
of what we already carried with us,
gravity learning the measure
of that unimagined freight.

Frank Gaspar

My English teacher passed this poem out to the class today, and asked us each to take some time to analyze it according to the idea of how one either pursues or compromises their happiness. Unfortunately, all I could compare this poem to is the slip on fabric shoe. This comfort shoe is my rope. A shoe that was hard to get, dangerous to have, and my release from gravity, and the source of my happiness. I seem to be this boy Carvalho. The one who rode the rotted rope and flew "down through the deep tangles, still sitting on the knot". I am CLUTCHING this rope. I am holding tight to what I've always believed to be the source of my happiness. This is my pursuit... But after thinking longer on what this poem had to tell me, I began to think. Maybe this rope is not my happiness, but my downfall instead. Indeed, my sweetest downfall. Carvalho clutched that rope, which could very well end his life. I'm falling. I'm clutching this rope with all I have, for it's something that I can't bear to lose. Unfortunately for me, clutching this rope will do me no good, because, although I may feel that it is my source of happiness it is actually the one thing compromising my happiness. If I instead let go of this rope, I may truly be in pursuit of my happiness.

So, maybe getting back to school isn't such a bad thing. :) English class helps me put my life into perspective. I LOVE it.