Sunday, January 11, 2009

Poets Imagine Best

This week's L.A. Times revealed that scientists now believe that black holes sprout galaxies (there has always been the question of which grew first). What better an illustration of a kind of Negative Capability! "This is hard to imagine," said a rep of the National Radio Astronomy Observatory. A black hole is the remains of a giant collapsed star, typically after exploding in a supernova. Which recalls Shelley as well as Keats--it was Shelley who believed that the key to life lay behind the "painted veil" of life/nature--in death. And of course this also inspired Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, in which the doctor creates his being from the remains from charnal houses.

And so I'm reminded that we're at this uncertain time--the end of a year and the beginning of a year. The final days of the black hole of the Bush administration and the impending dawn of the Obama years. But right now we're in Limbo--yes, it still exists despite Catholicism losing the construct. The best are forced to hold two opposing notions, fear and hope; the worst are still asserting passionate intensity (i.e., in Gaza). As Bono writes so eloquently in his New York Times Op-Ed piece, "This is our moment. What do we hear?

For Dick, my lost husband/poet/singer/musician. Hopefully in paradise, where Blake, architect of Songs of Innocence and Experience, was fortunate always to reside (at least per Mrs. Blake).

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