If a Tree Falls…
Does the far off Indian Ocean still sparkle
behind a fringe of casuarina trees?
Does the surf still roar against the reef?
Does frangipanni scent the air with heaven
When I’m no longer there?
Is that little row of shops along the road
still there to buy our war-time rations,
where Mister White weighed sugar into packets?
Or is it razed, a supermarket car park,
now that I’m not there?
Is that hill to school as steep to cycle now?
Do children pedal up it, puffing hard?
Or swoop by in cars, oblivious
to countryside and nature
when I’m no longer there?
The dream cottage that we lived in,
newly wed in Worcestershire -
does anyone still tend my ideal garden?
Do church bells opposite still call to prayer,
or do the hatted faithful go elsewhere now,
when I’m no longer there?
The linden tree below the house still soothes my soul.
The village market still supplies our needs.
Acquaintances all smile ‘bonjour’ in passing.
The gentle hills of Normandy are tranquil,
and for the moment, we enjoy them -
because we are still here.
Process Notes
http://margoroby.wordpress.com/2012/01/24/a-sense-of-place-tuesday-tryouts/ this week was a prompt for us to examine our sense of place. This unleashed in me a cascade of memories that left me gasping, provoked a couple of pages of closely written notes. I left the topic to germinate for a couple of days. Jock happened to read the notes I’d left on the dining table, and started to say “If a tree falls in the forest and no-one’s there to hear it, does it make a sound?” We were about to set off to town shopping, and throughout the 20 kilometre drive this afternoon I was scribbling frantically to put into words the thoughts his question sparked in me. Today’s poem is the result.
I Googled to find the source of his quotation, and discovered that it was not from a poem, but from a philosophical concept:
Philosopher George Berkeley, in his work, A Treatise Concerning the Principles of Human Knowledge, proposes, “But, say you, surely there is nothing easier than for me to imagine trees, for instance, in a park [...] and nobody by to perceive them. [...] The objects of sense exist only when they are perceived; the trees therefore are in the garden [...] no longer than while there is somebody by to perceive them.”[1] Nevertheless, Berkeley never actually wrote about the question.
In the 1910 book Physics by Charles Riborg Mann and George Ransom Twiss. The question “When a tree falls in a lonely forest, and no animal is nearby to hear it, does it make a sound? Why?” is posed along with many other questions to quiz readers on the contents of the chapter, and as such, is posed from a purely physical point of view
Also posted at http://dversepoets.com/2012/01/31/open-link-night-week-29/
this is certainly rich…where mr white weighed sugar into packets…i like that line as it is often the people that truly determine place for me…a unique detail that shows familiarity….
I could feel myself exhale and my shoulders relax at the reading of the first line…absolutely lovely snapshots of place: as you remember them.
Hugs,
~Paula
This is a beautiful poem – I’d like to keep a copy of it, Viv, as I know I’ll want to read it again and linger over the evocative images.
I shall be honoured for you to keep it!
Wonderful trip down memory lane.
Just lovely, Viv. I enjoyed the process notes too.
I have the same concept in me where i ask myself, what is my friend doing at this time? at this hour and moment. mathildah, adrianna, danny, gillbert, what are they doing at this exact moment, at this ticking second. Sometimes people really dont care but the artistic value in it is really deep. the same with the tree, people really dont care nor the animal for a falling tree but by listening and knowing, we get something in return. A knowledge, something to ponder. Lol! im crapping myself with words. A good poem it is mam.
Oh I understand how memories can rush at you like that, in fast-forward down-load, this was a lovely decanting of that! c
Excellent! More than the old wisdom about trees and falling, it reminded me of the butterfly in Central Park, cause and effect. Maybe change is not the result of anything, and it’s happening all the time (though as always, some things remain the same, as comforts), but what we think causes change merely gets us to sit up and take notice.
I love this for many reasons. I especially love the title and the way you echo the theme through the poem. You give us clear imagery of your early landscape and then bring us to the one now. Nice.
Do you know Housman’s poem “Is My Team Ploughing?” Same theme. Cool twist at the end.
http://www.bartleby.com/123/27.html
margo
Thank you Margo. The memories came higgledy piggledy and totally out of context timewise, but I felt it was important to treat the places as they came.
I don’t know the Houseman poem, but I have his collected works upstairs, and shall go and read the paper poem.
I have since read it, Margo – and I saw the parallel. I also absolutely loved the poem and found myself still reading old favourites an hour later!
I used to teach that poem to my ninth graders [third formers]. I loved watching their faces for the first glimmer of recognition as to the state of one of the speakers.
I love being distracted that way. I think my favourite poems are still my earlier poems, the ones I grew up with. And, I never get tired of the poems from my childhood. A few years ago my daughter gave me a collection of all the poems I had loved as a child and had read to them as they grew up. I may have to go read some now.
I will wait for Teacher’s comments to see if it fit the prompt, but I like it. Seems to give a clear sense of multiple places, vivid memories, possible longing. A good read.
Uh huh. By now, you’ll have noticed that everyone has approached this differently. No help for you there
m
This is lush, Viv. A plethora of memories. Beautiful.
Pamela
Sound is energy, and energy exists, whether we’re receptive or not. I question the existence of the tree.