A friend recently brought this poem by D. H. Lawrence to my attention, “The Enkindled Spring.” A total of only 12 lines and yet a whole essay could be written in discussion. Like
*The irony of using hot, consuming imagery to describe something refreshing and regenerative.
*Feeling belittled within the power of the universe.
*Shadows versus reflections in Plato’s Cave.
*The ramifications of what is feeding or supplying them.
*Determined or Free.
I offer in answer,
a single brushstroke of blue in Vermeer’s girl
a solitary rock contour beneath the waterfall
silence beyond the air of one retreating note
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