Literary Response

In whitethorn, the seed tells of his/her chance encounter with a copperhead on the bridle-path bingle night as it lay g olden under the track lamp, silent and tense and fearless. Having long wanted to see one, he/she kneels ingest transfixed, fascinated by its lethal grace, its being un deal the common vague and green and garter snakes that evince only shyness here is a real death striker within arms reach. The author remembers non its distinct markings or size or other physical characterstic other than the circumstance that its head is wedge-shaped and fell back to the unprovided for(predicate) slimness of a neck, its body thick, tense and electric. He/she moves a little, inherited the creatures c are it jerks as if to attack, and he/she jumps back. The snake flows on across the road and down into the dark, leaving him/her alone to contemplate the woodwind and the stars.Only a reptile, but what intuitive feelingings it does evoke Meeting the copperhead is an exciting th row that leaves one more capable of appreciating spirit. I hope to see everything in this public in advance I die, says the author, speaking of a hope that is unambiguously hu hu human beingsness. The poem captures an impression, a feeling, and by so doing prints an image of the poet as thoroughly curious, contemplative, daring, desirous to embark on a quest to discover everything that flavor has to offer.Al almost everyone shares the authors wish to see everything in this gentleman beforehand he/she dies, like the boy in Van Dykes The Blue Flower who, seeing his own burial lot already completelyotted to him, composes terribly restless, longing to see the world and to taste bliss before his time comes to sleep beneath the elm tree where his here subsequently graveyard lies. Such, to my mind, is the authors yearning she is drawn to the copperhead as a moth is drawn to a flame, or a soldier lured to the battlefield, non by dreams of glory and honor, but by some vague spi rit that a submit-to- present lookation with death would desexualise him better apprise the joy of living.But why does one cast off to look for redness in things as wild, as unpredictable, as deadly as a copperhead? Perhaps, humans are drawn to the snake by the realization that they eat up a thing in common a vulnerability without the fang. carry a trend mans weapons, and he is but a feeble animal. Of course, one heap learn everything about snakes through books or the Internet or the science lab. The author, if he/she wants to, can view the copperhead in its scrap cage as it sleeps, coiled and undisturbed. But a snake in the open, especially in ones yard, al meanss strikes terror.Like the serpent in the garden of Eden, it suggests cunning, mystery, power. Gliding and winding and recoiling, it has a beauty that seduces and mesmerizes. One must(prenominal) see a real snake up close and individualized to have a glimpse of the real world. In this regard, to see everything do es not simply amount to viewing things through a microscope, or ceremony a lion in its kingdom in the veldt from the synthetic rubber of a car. It is akin to courting danger for the love of being scared, to feel ones blood pulsing upon coming face to face with real-life demons. It is not seeing the world the way a tourist usually does, nor as a nature lover admires butterflies. Nor is it a foolhardy mans courtship of danger. The author does not go out of his/her way to meet the snake it happens by chance. His/her wish to see everything in this world does not necessarily refer to making a solo voyage across the ocean, or free-falling from a cliff, or mounting the Himalayas because its there. It is not seeking danger for its sake, but stupefying comfort in saving when real danger comes along.The authors desire to see everything in this world before dying echoes Thoreaus self-admonition on his quest, living by himself in the woods, to live deep and suck out all the marrow of li fe . . . to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest price (Walden). Mays author may not have bypast to the extent of exploring the earths frontiers, at least not that we screw of, to see everything in this planet his/hers is only a hope, perhaps a childish one, for nobody can ever hope to see everything in a multiple of lifetimes. It is a powerful voice, nonetheless, emanating from within, that is always find outd higher up the din of humanity.In a sense, May is Rubaiyat-like in its simplicity make the most of what we may yet spend,/ Before we as well into the Dust Descend. Of course, May neer tells us to indulge before we die, nor does it preach or call our attention to the plight of endangered species. But it gives an impression of urgency life is too short to be squandered on trivial pursuits.The author sees the copperhead not in some desert but in an populate town, perhaps a city fringed by woods, illumined not by the sun or moon but by a pass lamp. Perhaps it is a reminder of our affinity with the wild. Maybe it is one way of telling us that material comforts and soft living have deprived us of the age-old need to go out and face our monsters. After the copperhead has flown across the road and down into the dark, the author stood a while, listening to the microscopic sounds of the woods and looking at the stars. He/she notes that after excitement we are so restful and that when the thumb of fear lifts, we are so alive. Restfulness and vivacity are the aftermath of excitement and fear. But is it possible to become restful and alive at the same time? Meditative, or thoughtful, would be more apt. One can be brimming with life and excitement even when confined to a sickbed.The encounter with the copperhead heightens the authors appreciation of natures other gifts, such as the small sounds of the woods and a view of the stars. At night, one can hear faint stirrings in the forest as pirana and prey make their nocturnal rounds a squirrel b eing caught in a coyotes jaws, a rat being snatched by an owl on the wing. unless humans do not really know, cannot really comprehend the crucial struggles that occur in their midst unless they too assume the role of predator or prey, killer or victim. The former is excited by the fact that it has power over the weak the latter by the fact that it can outrun, even outwit, its pursuer. Has this not been the lot of all creatures since time began? In brush the copperhead, the author unexpectedly catches a glimpse of what life really consisted of before civilization. By listening to the woods, one can hear the coming and handout of life. By looking at the stars, one can wish life would go on forever.Every human at some point betimes in life feels an itch to set out and conquer the world, like the frog in the parable of the well, or like the pioneers in the old West who could not settle down despite the abundance of bouncy and the rich land of the frontier they always wanted to mov e on, to find out what lay over the horizon all the way to the Pacific. That is mans nature, and nothing has stopped him not if it took all the copperheads in the world to go and see what there is to find, even if it would only lead to thwarting and despair. Every person yearns to find his/her El Dorado.May suggests endless possibilities, once-in-a-lifetime chances, secrets waiting to be discovered, if only we are willing to face them. Day after twenty-four hours we meet common people that do not impress us by their shyness, ordinary people, boring people. The daily routine becomes a injury and before we know it we are old, confined to a wheelchair, unsure of whether or not we had ever lived at all. But once in a rare while we come across a deadly copperhead.May is all about someones feelings after a brush with a poisonous snake. Maybe it is not about crossing the Sahara or climbing Mount Everest after all, but simply a matter of having to confront our own copperheads as we cha nce upon them in our everyday lives.WORKS CITEDDyke/The_Blue_Flower/Khayyam, Omar. The Rubaiyat. 31 May 2007.