somewhere i have never travelled 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 ---this poem's deep. i know everyone's interpretation of this poem can be different, but i hella feel this one... it's such a beautiful poemmm. its like someone has such an empowerment on the other person and they dont know exactly why, but they love it...hahah. anyway, i kind of think that not writing my own poetry because i gave it up for lent will actually do me some good. it'll allow me to read poems by famous authors=]
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