“(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”
– Somewhere I have never traveled, e. e. cummings
I think I fell in love with this poem the day I first heard it in English Lit, 5 years ago. I didn’t even remotely understand what it was supposed to mean then. Sometimes, I read this poem even now and still feel like there are parts of it that are difficult to fully understand. But I knew it was beautiful the first moment I heard it.
Does that make sense?
Knowing something is beautiful, even when you don’t know why it is so? Even when I couldn’t fully comprehend it’s meaning, I knew that I was supposed to feel something when I heard it for the first time and I did. It had sounded so sad and so hauntingly beautiful even when I wasn’t quite sure why I felt those things.
I think the best kind of beautiful things have that effect on us. We’re not really sure what sets them apart from the mundane day to day things we have surrounded ourselves with. We’re not sure why they affect us so but they do anyway. Sometimes we don’t even notice how different they are from the normal, until that one striking moment of clarity and boom. It changes you.
Your eyes are a little brighter, you look at the world and see possibilities, you feel more, you urge yourself to do more. Beautiful things like poetry, like words you can’t quite understand… They do this.
Or maybe it’s just all the coffee.