Native American Poem: A Hidden Place

Scott, Carol Elain Faivre, "A Hidden Place"
17 Mar, 2008 <http://www.fortunecity.com/victorian/holbein/369/napoet.htm#A%20Hidden%20Place>

A Hidden Place
Each of us has a hidden place Somewhere deep within ourselves;A place where we go to get away,To think things through,To be alone, to be ourselves.This unique place, where we confront our deepest feelings,Becomes a storehouse of all our hopes,All our needs, all our dreams,And even our unspoken fears.It encompasses the essence of who we are and what we want to be.But now and then, whether by chance or design,Someone discovers a way into that place we thought was ours alone.And we allow that person to see, to feel and to share All the reason, all the uncertainty And all the emotion we've stored up there.That person adds new perspective to our hidden realm,Then quietly settles down in his own corner of our special place,Where a bit of himself will stay forever.And we call that person a friend.

-Poem by Carol Elaine Faivre-Scott

Reflection:

The author expresses that this hidden place is within all human beings, it's why we act, how we dream, what we like, and it defines us as a person. This hidden place is our individuality what makes us different from everyone else, and escape from the norm, this place is shaped to whatever the person decides it to be. Goals and self made promises are sprouted from a person's hidden place. Without a hidden place a person would be void of emotion, thought, and self-preservation because it helps find ourselves in time of struggle. Although the body wears away over time, a hidden place stays forever.

This poem reminds me when I was a kid in fourth grade. There was this book about meditation one of my parents had, and there was an exercise called, "the secret place". Like the poem, the book described that this secret place shapes to our imagination, defines who we are, and should be visited when troubled so one can find hope to his answers. With all the stress and lack of sleep in my life I could sure use some relaxing in this secret place of mine.

Diary:

Dear Diary,
Our elder Three Bears taught us that no matter how big or small a person is there is a hidden place within all of us. I couldn't really imagine that dirt, bugs, and trees could all be inside me, so I asked him how that could be possible. He smiled at my question and responded that it is not exactly earth that remains in us, but a reflection of ourselves, and that this place changes over time to what we do, what we've felt, and how our fate has shaped us. I thought about Three Bear's words and decided to describe somewhere I hope to see. I've seen a place, where I walk among the rolling ever-green plains and where the trees can never be cut down. I've seen a place, where light tenderly sheds through the thick canopy of the forest, gently brushing the ground. I've seen a place where the desert is always bare, and the sun sets out to the west and streaks crimson on the sky. I've seen a place where nature never lashed its fury. I've seen a place where nothing is ever wasted. I've seen a place where sorrow is but a lesson. I've seen a place where I saw no else, but only me and myself.

What about the Dream? (EQ)

The pilgrims escaped Britain and sought a place where they could establish their own way of life and enjoy the company of their fellow people. However, the pilgrims' dream for a new life cost the lives of many American Indians. The natives of the "New World" were doomed as the zealous puritans sought to establish civilization. Throughout the American timeline, Native Americans were always a target for prejudice and have been constantly oppressed by the "Land of the Free". Indeed it was right for the pilgrims' to seek a freedom, but they were wrong to take away the freedom of these native people.

Anne Bradstreet Poem: Letter to Husband

Bradstreet, Anne "A Letter to her husband, Absent Upon Public Employment"
16 Mar 2008 <http://www.vcu.edu/engweb/webtexts/Bradstreet/bradlet.htm>

My head, my heart, mine eyes, my life, nay, more.
My joy, my magazine of earthly store,
If two be one, as surely thou and I,

How stayest thou there, wilst I at Ipswich lie?

So many steps, head from the heart to sever,

If but a neck, soon should we be together,

I, like the Earth this season, mourn in black,

My Sun is gone so far in's zodiac,

Whom whilst I 'joyed, nor storms, nor frost I felt,

His warmth such frigid colds did cause to melt.

My chilled limbs now numbed lie forlorn;

Return, return, sweet Sol, from Capricorn,

In this dead time, alas, what can I more

Than view those fruits which through thy heat I bore?

Which sweet contentment yield me for a space,

True living pictures of their father's face.

O strange effect! now thou art southward gone,

I weary grow the tedious day so long;

But when thou northward to me shalt return,

I wish my Sun may never set, but burn

Within the Cancer of my glowing breast,

The welcome house of him my dearest guest.

Where ever, ever stay, and go not thence,

Till nature's sad decree shall call thee hence;

Flesh of thy flesh, bone of thy bone,

I here, thou there, but both but one.

Reflection:
The elements within this poem help the reader feel the author's desperation for her husband's immediate return. She sets a tone of longing by pleading by contrasting the seasons of summer and winter. She feels that with her husband's absence she dead inside like nature's slumber in winter, thus referring to the constellation Capricorn. She then describes that the return of the Constellation Cancer brings the warmth of summer to the earth just as his return to their home will bring warmth and life to her heart. However, what is the real purpose of this letter? Is it for the author to convince her husband that true bliss awaits their home as he returns? Or is it an attempt to draw him back through guilt due to citing the desperateness of her situation. Do they really love each other or does she simply need his support to insure the survival of her child and herself.

Diary:

Dear Diary,
Help me to find the answers, the answers to the question I'm too afraid to ask out loud. And council me that I step lightly across this path of eggshells to reunite my family. Does he still love me? Why does he not write? Has he met someone else that he favors more than me? How can he be not interested in the new miracles our daughter performs daily? Oh, I wish I knew his heart. Oh me I shall write immediately to my cousin who employs my husband. Hopefully I can glean some insight on this matter. Maybe she knows more than I have learned. I hope to God that I'm wrong in the questions I ask myself. Heaven forbid he deserts his only wife and seed. I cannot raise this child alone.

Anne Bradstreet Poem: To my Husband

Bradstreet, Anne "To my Dear and Loving Husband"
16 Mar 2008 <http://www.vcu.edu/engweb/webtexts/Bradstreet/bradhyp.htm>

If ever two were one, then surely we.
If ever man were loved by wife, then thee;
If ever wife was happy in a man,
Compare with me, ye women, if you can.
I prize thy love more than whole mines of gold
Or all the riches that the East doth hold.
My love is such that rivers cannot quench,
Nor ought but love from thee, give recompense.
Thy love is such I can no way repay,
The heavens reward thee manifold, I pray.
Then while we live, in love let's so persevere
That when we live no more, we may live ever.

Reflection:

The author displays a tone of exaltation, which makes the reader feel that it can overcome the certainty of death and that true love carries on through the ages. Bradstreet's imagery in the poem portrays love in an eloquent style. For example, the following line describes the speaker's appreciation of love, "I prize my love more than whole mines of gold. My love is such that rivers cannot quench" portrays the gratitude of the speaker's husband since she values his life and spirit, and her love for him is infinite. Furthermore, repetition is used in lines 1-3 with the word "if," which emphasizes the emotion of love, "If ever two were one, than surely we," depicts appreciation the two people have for each other and their feelings are one in unity. Metaphors in the poem emphasize the speaker's imagery, "Nor ought but love from thee, give recompense. Thy love is such I can no way repay, The heavens reward thee manifold, I pray." The speaker's husband brings her such joy that she cannot repay him in any mortal way, so she prays that God will grant her husband the same bliss he has brought her.

Anne Bradstreet Poem: By night when others soundly slept

Bradstreet, Anne "By Night when Others Soundly Slept"
March 23, < http://rpo.library.utoronto.ca/poem/209.html >


Reflection:
The speaker is once again a woman who displays a tone of gratitude for love and what it brings to her life. It seems as though she calls for her certain man, as if night is the only time she prays for his presence. Yet, she must be careful since she does not want anyone to know of her ritual. Since puritans believe that humans must relieve themselves of their materials and man-made objects and only embrace god. The speaker must be secretive of her pleas to the certain man. For example, "By night when others soundly slept…My waking eyes were open kept, And so to lie I found it best". This explains that the speaker is dependent upon her lover's arrival, since it must be a custom of the puritans for the women to be asleep at night, while the men are out. Thus only her lover can quench her agitation for his presence, "I sought him whom my Soul did Love, With tears I sought him earnestly…My hungry Soul he fill'd with Good". Apparently this man fills this woman's heart with such joy; it is pure sensation for him to be in her presence. Her tears, pain, and fear vanish while both this man and woman are brought to together in unity. This man is her savior, and she repays him through commitment and vows to experience eternity with him.

Huswifery

Taylor, Edward "Huswifery"
17 Mar 2008 <http://www.puritansermons.com/poetry/taylor14.htm>

Make me, O Lord, thy Spinning Wheele compleat;
Thy Holy Worde my Distaff make for mee.
Make mine Affections thy Swift Flyers neate,
And make my Soule thy holy Spoole to bee.
My Conversation make to be thy Reele,
And reele the yarn thereon spun of thy Wheele.

Make me thy Loome then, knit therein this Twine:
And make thy Holy Spirit, Lord, winde quills:
Then weave the Web thyselfe. The yarn is fine.
Thine Ordinances make my Fulling Mills.
Then dy the same in Heavenly Colours Choice,
All pinkt with Varnish't Flowers of Paradise.

Then cloath therewith mine Understanding, Will,
Affections, Judgment, Conscience, Memory;
My Words and Actions, that their shine may fill
My wayes with glory and thee glorify.
Then mine apparell shall display before yee
That I am Cloathd in Holy robes for glory.

Reflection:

This poem is basically the process of marriage. The speaker is obviously a man, who prays to God throughout his life, and asks for God's grace and guidance. In the first paragraph, the speaker prays and asks to be guided to find the right women in his life. For example, "Make mine Affections thy Swift Flyers neate… My conversation make to be thy Reele". This portrays the speaker's request to find the women in his life that is right for him; when he finds that woman, may God grant him the right words to woo her. The second verse discusses the journey through time the couple carries on, "Make me thy Loome then, knit therein this Twine: And make thy Holy Spirit, Lord, winde quills: Then weave the Web thyselfe. The yarn is fine". The speaker has found the right women in his life, but he prays to God to make his marriage work so that he and his wife will bring joy to each other's lives. In the final verse, the speaker once again prays to God, that after all the laughs, tears, and time the couple has gone through together, God will recognize the goodness in their union and find the honor in their marriage, finally welcoming them into his kingdom with open arms.
It seems as though we can all relate to the author. Not really just finding someone in your life, but finding enough peace and happiness, and that is rare to find especially in a time of war. Lives are lost, the economy recesses, and the country itself splits into factions and feuds. Pressure is put upon everyone to join a side, "Are you republican? democrat? independent?" what's the point to ask a kid that kind of a question? I don't even pay my own taxes.

Diary:

Dear Diary,
Life aboard this ship is dull as can be. All of us are cramped, suffocating in the same air, and waiting. Waiting for the day we reach the island. That's all we can do is wait. However, there is something else that's occupying my mind. I found her again. I met her, my angel for the second time. I'm not sure where to start, what she likes to hear. I can't go through these unexpected meetings and just say hello; my tongue is tied and my stomach aches. How can I woo her, get her to know me? How can I acquire that sweet tongue that draws women like honey to flies? All I can do is pray to God that some day, some time, I will be able to draw her into me. I feel this woman like no other, her warmth, her touch, that delicate innocence in her eyes. Like no other! All I can do is hope that my senses are right about this woman. My tongue is my rod, and God my consultant. God grant me the words to touch her heart.

Of Plymoth Plantation

Bradford, William. "Of Plymoth Plantation"
19 March 2008. <http://spider.georgetowncollege.edu/english/coke/bradford.htm>

Reflection:
No doubt the story is about the pilgrims' first encounter with this so called "New World". However, it is a much darker version than the children's tales of Elizabeth Hopkins and her Indian friends. On their voyage, the inhabitants of the ship still segregate themselves from the people with money and the dirt poor. Although they have one thing in common, their belief that God is the ultimate navigator on this journey. It was apparent that every act was God's will, every life lost, was God's decision. Some very sick and poor people were thrown into the ocean just because people concurred that God wanted it to be done. As this story progresses, it seems that this "act of God" becomes an excuse for any wrong-doing the pilgrims commit. Upon their arrival on Cape Cod, the pilgrims discover native inhabitants. We all know how this turns out, and no, not the children's version. Instead of bartering or negotiating, they immediately decide the Pequot are a threat to their existence and must be obliterated. The Indians must have felt similar mistrust when they first saw the camps thinking, "What right do they have on our land?" The Pequot felt intimidated of such an invasion. Yet it is the pilgrims that sought to destroy anyone or anything that they felt was not worthy of their standards, or more importantly, God's. It is no more different than a holocaust.
On a personal note, I once felt a similar irritation. About a while back, I went to open a bank account with my mother, since I got tired of caring wads of cash in my room without spending the money for some odd months straight. And as were sitting down and talking about the different types of accounts, the manager asked, "Is your son legal?" I can assure you my mother wanted to raise hell after that meeting, but I was not angry. It seemed to me as if someone walked up to me and asked, "Is that dog, not a cat?" As the manager could plainly see, my mother is as white as a ghost. If he had taken a minute to realize that she is an American citizen, then I, her son, would be an American citizen before I would be born. I'm not exactly sure why he would ask such a question, just like the Pequot must have thought, what right does anyone have to invade someone else?

Diary:
According to the Captain, we are on the second half of our journey. I can't stand how people are already separating themselves into groups and causing feuds amongst each other. What's the point? Where all here for the same reason, free land. So why bother fighting? It disgusts me that some people throw others off board, and just say, "For God's grace". Especially that one boy who is a little younger than me, that started suggesting we should toss over the ill since this voyage has no mercy for the weak. I don't remember God choosing him to suggest such things. I'd like to have a whack at him. I have kept myself silent so far and I don't want to end up like the others in the ocean. Before we hit Cape Cod or this "New World" I need to set plans for our settlement with father. Ethan and Elliot are not even big enough to grasp a musket, so my parents are counting on me. The big question is though, what does this "New World" look like? Could it really be different than Britain? Our family has not even traveled beyond our town, since were not rich. At least I'm not that poor to throw off board.