Monday, December 5, 2016


AFTERWORD 

Gentle Reader,

What you’ll find below is an upside-down anthology of sorts: a journal of my frequent morning musings from January 2008 till now, in reverse order.


Much of what I write here is verse in traditional rhymed iambic pentameters, old fashioned in form but contemporary in topics and idiom. It asks to be read aloud so that the effects of rhyme and meter may be felt.


Sometimes I write brief prose essays, but even my verses are essays, or attempts, pursuing a line of thought to some conclusion, though more sonorously than those in prose: discursive verses, I call them.


In either case, you’re the reader over my shoulder as I write, which makes my writing different than when I have no audience in mind but only a vague urge to express. So I thank you for whatever attention you give my words and thoughts and feelings because you might so easily attend to something else, and you soon will.


To beguile you to linger longer, though, I’ve coupled most of my compositions with a photo or image I’ve taken or borrowed, which often corresponds with my words of that day.

Thank you for visiting here.  I hope you enjoy your stay and are moved to come back soon.


                                                                                                                                               —Alan Nordstrom 







*


LIFE ELSEWHERE

               There surely must be life elsewhere than Earth

               Within the vastness of infinity;
               The Power that brought us forth would have no dearth
               Of its original capacity;
               It’s only that the distances are vast,
               And any traveler from afar would need
               To voyage longer than a life could last
               For its amazing mission to succeed.
               Assuming, though, the speed of light to be
               Not instantaneous, but nearly so,
               Perhaps we’ll summon the capacity
               To know the far away and long ago.
                    But then, there may be knowledge best unknown—
                    It may be better if we’re all alone.









*