Conversation with
Kay Ryan

Poetry Workshop
(English 192V)
Stanford University
Winter Quarter 2010

Peter Y. Chou

Christopher Smart's A Song to David

"But stronger still, in earth and air, / And in the sea, the man of prayer"— a man with such a vision would be regarded as a saint or sage in India, but in the West we call him insane. A. E. Housman considered Christopher Smart a mad poet (p. 38 of The Name and Nature of Poetry) as well as many of Smart's contemporaries. Smart's religious fervor landed him in a mental asylum (1757-1763), during which two of his widely-known works "A Song to David" and "Jubilate Agno" were partly written. The first time I heard a Christopher Smart poem was when Galway Kinnell read "For I Will Consider My Cat Jeoffry" at Squaw Valley (July 1989). Robert Pinsky also said this poem was one of his favorites, and gave it to his Stanford Poetry Workshop students (January 2007).

Christopher Smart, "A Song to David" lines 445-462 (1763) Strong is the horse upon his speed; Strong in pursuit the rapid glede, Which makes at once his game: Strong the tall ostrich on the ground; Strong through the turbulent profound Shoots Xiphias to his aim. Strong is the lion— like a coal His eyeball— like a bastion's mole His chest against the foes: Strong the gier-eagle on his sail, Strong against tide the enormous whale Emerges as he goes. But stronger still in earth and air, And in the sea, the man of prayer, And far beneath the tide: And in the seat to faith assigned, Where ask is have, where seek is find, Where knock is open wide.

Peter Paul Rubens (1577-1640) Daniel in the Lions' Den (1616) Oil on canvas (88 1/4 in. x 130 1/8 in.) National Gallery of Art, Washington D.C.

Poetry & Prayer     The Chinese word for poetry, shih () is composed of yen (): "word; language" and szu (): "temple, monastery". Hence, poetry is a "temple of words". Yen is composed of t'ou () "above" (heaven, Tao), erh "two" () (earth, duality), and k'ou () "mouth" (passage). Shakespeare must have intuited the Chinese ideogram for poetry in A Midsummer Night's Dream, V.i.15-19 (1595): "The poet's eye... doth glance from heaven... the poet's pen turns them to shapes." Denise Levertov had a similar vision: "The poet— when he is writing— is a priest; the poem is a temple; epiphanies and communion takes place within it... Writing the poem is the poet's means of summmoning the divine" (The Poet in the World). Kathleen Raine says that "Poetry is the resonance of the eternal in and through the temporal." Gary Snyder says "Poetry is an expression touching our higher self." If poetry is summoning the divine, resonating with the eternal, and touching our higher self— these are calls for prayer or contemplation to tap into the heavenly realms. Poems of prayer are rare in the 20th century, however two modern poets do invoke prayer in their poems that I'm citing below. Of Being I know this happiness is provisional:         the looming presences—         great suffering, great fear—         withdraw only         into peripheral vision: but ineluctable this shimmering of wind in the blue leaves: this flood of stillness widening the lake of sky: this need to dance, this need to kneel:                 this mystery: Denise Levertov (1926-1997), Oblique Prayers, "Of Being" New Directions, NY, 1984, p. 86 Thirst Another morning and I wake with thirst for the goodness I do not have. I walk out to the pond and all the way God has given us such beautiful lessons. Oh Lord, I was never a quick scholar but sulked and hunched over my books past the hour and the bell; grant me, in your mercy, a little more time. Love for the earth and love for you are having such a long conversation in my heart. Who knows what will finally happen or where I will be sent, yet already I have given a great many things away, expecting to be told to pack nothing, except the prayers which, with this thirst, I am slowy learning. — Mary Oliver (born 1935)      Thirst, "Thirst"      Beacon Press, Boston, 2006, p. 69 Denise Levertov in her poem "Of Being" from Oblique Prayers (1984) ends with "this need to kneel: / this mystery:", for it is a mystery to kneel down and pray to that invisible and infinite power that sustains our life. Mary Oliver's poem "Thirst" is the last poem in her book of the same title. Buddha says that it's thirst (trisna) or desire which draws our ego back to earthly life again. But Mary Oliver's thirst is not for material things of this world, but prayers for goodness of the spirit, which is admirable. Gary Snyder in his "Prayer for the Great Family" from Turtle Island (1974), expresses gratitude to Mother Earth, Plants, Air, Wild Beings, Water, Sun, and Great Sky after a Mohawk prayer.     Stanford staged "A Celebration of the Life and Work of Emily Dickinson" (2008), and on February 13, 2008 presented "The Music Emily Heard". Emily often played the piano for her father's delight. She was inspired by many hymns and wrote poems to their rhythm but with her point of view. In Poem 476, Emily prays to the Great Spirit, saying she has "but modest needs" to be content. Her request for "A Heaven not so large as Yours, / But large enough— for me—" struck me as amour-soi rather than amour-propre— the latter love comparing oneself to others according to Jean-Jacques Rousseau is the cause of evil. Amour-soi or self-love without comparing to others is the cause of goodness, since we care just for basic needs to be content. By not pursuing superiority over others, Emily was content and focused in writing poetry that made her poems immortal. Emily's modesty is similar to that of Socrates who at the end of Plato's Phaedrus prays to the Gods for beauty within, and that he has enough gold to carry with him for his moderate necessity. Because Emily and Socrates lived the simple life, they were blessed to have their works of poetry and philosophy to be everlasting for us to read and treasure. Poem 476 I meant to have but modest needs— Such as Content— and Heaven— Within my income— these could lie And Life and I— keep even— But since the last— included both— It would suffice my Prayer But just for One— to stipulate— And Grace would grant the Pair— And so— upon this wise— I prayed— Great Spirit— Give to me A Heaven not so large as Yours, But large enough— for me— — Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)      Poem 496 (1862)      (first 3 stanzas cited in 28-lines poem) Socrates Prayer to Pan Oh dear Pan and all the other Gods of this place, grant that I may be beautiful inside. Let all my external possessions be in friendly harmony with what is within. May I consider the wise man rich. As for gold, let me have as much as a moderate man could bear and carry with him. Anything more? The prayer, I think, is enough for me. Phaedrus: Ask the same for me, for friends should have all things in common. Socrates: Let us go. — Socrates (470 BC-399 BC)      Plato, Phaedrus, 279 Sages on Prayer     Swami Chinmayananda had an insight about prayer during his lecture at MIT (circa 1974) on the Bhagavad Gita that remained vivid with me. He said "God is infinite Pure Consciousness while most of us are in limited ego consciousness with our petty worldly desires. So when we petition God to grant our wishes, it's as though Pure Consciousness doesn't already know what we wish for." After hearing this revelation, I told myself that it's not necessary to pray any longer, since God knows my needs even before I ask for them (Matthew 6.8). So I meditated in earnest to experience cosmic consciousness to better my scientific research in protein structure as well as to live in peaceful harmony. Nevertheless I was curious whether sages who are in pure consciousness pray at all since they are free of desires, always in a state of bliss. We have seen the sage Socrates praying to the Gods. Let's look at some other cases.     Jesus who is one with the Father in Heaven (John 10.30), prays often: " And straightway Jesus constrained his disciples to get into a ship, and to go before him unto the other side, while he sent the multitudes away. And when he had sent the multitudes away, he went up into a mountain apart to pray: and when the evening was come, he was there alone." (Matthew 14.22-23) * "Then cometh Jesus with them unto a place called Gethsemane, and saith unto the disciples, Sit ye here, while I go and pray yonder." (Matthew 26.36) * "Saying unto them, It is written, My house is the house of prayer: but ye have made it a den of thieves." (Luke 19.46) "And when he rose up from prayer, and was come to his disciples, he found them sleeping for sorrow, And said unto them, Why sleep ye? rise and pray, lest ye enter into temptation." (Luke 22.45-46)     In Leaves of Grass (1855) "Song of Myself" (line 398) Walt Whitman writes: "Shall I pray? Shall I venerate and be ceremonious?" This line sounds like Confucius (551 BC-479 BC). From Confucian Analects, Lun Yu, VII.35: The Master being seriously ill, Tzu-lu asked leave to pray for him. The Master said "May such a thing be done?" Tzu-lu said, "It may. Prayer has been made for thee to the spirits of the upper and lower worlds." The Master said, "My praying has been for a long time." From Lun Yu, III.17: Tzu-kung wanted to do away with the sacrificial sheep at the announcement of the new moon. The Master said, "Ts'ze, you love the sheep; I love the ceremony." Whitman probably read Analects of Confucius, especially VII.35 & III.17 when he wrote line 398 about prayer and venerating ceremony. My Dad and Mom taught us the ethics of this Chinese sage. They were surprised when I showed them Confucius saying "My praying has been for a long time."     Plotinus (204-270 AD) is an enlightened sage who has delved into the soul's mysteries more than any other philosopher. His Enneads has inspired Saint Augustine as well as philosophers (Marsilio Ficino, Pico della Mirandola), and poets (Coleridge, Yeats, Kathleen Raine). Porphyry relates that Plotinus attained a union with the One four times during the years he knew him. Here is Plotinus on prayer: "In venturing an answer, we first invoke God Himself, not by uttering word but by way of prayer, leaning the soul towards Him by aspiration, alone toward the Alone." (Enneads V.i.6)     Saint Evagrios the Solitary (345-399 AD), also known as Evagrios Pontikos was ordained reader by St. Basil the Great. He accompanied St Gregory the Theologian to the Council of Constantinople in 381. He draws upon the living experience of the Desert Fathers of Egypt, mainly Copts, among whom he spent the last years of his life. Here are some insights from his On Prayer: 153 Texts: * "Prayer is the fruit of joy and thankfulness." (15) * "Prayer is the ascent of the intellect to God. If you long for prayer, renounce all to gain all." (36-37) * "The state of prayer is one of dispassion, which by virtue of the most intense love transports to the noetic realm the intellect that longs for wisdom." (53) * "He who prays in spirit and in truth is no longer dependent on created things when honouring the Creator, but praises Him for and in Himself." (60) * "Pray gently and calmly, sing with understanding and rhythm; then you will soar like a young eagle high in the heavens." (82) * "If you seek prayer attentively you will find it; for nothing is more essential to prayer than attentiveness. So do all you can to acquire it." (149) * "If when praying no other joy can attract you, then truly you have found prayer." (153) * (from The Philokalia, compiled by St. Nikodimos of the Holy Mountain, 1979, pp. 55-71) My first spiritual mentor Anthony Damiani regarded Paul Brunton (1898-1981) as a sage who is always in pure cosmic consciousness. When I visited Paul Brunton (PB) in his home at Corseaux sur Vevey in September 1979, he received me warmly as always. On the walls of PB's living room were large tankas of Oriental sages whom he admired— the Neo-Confucian sage Chou Tun-yi, Wang Yang Ming, and "Confucius Holding a Cherry Branch". There was a smaller scroll with Lao Tzu riding a water buffalo. But in PB's bedroom he just had a small postcard propped up on his dressing bureau— Jean François Millet's L'Angelus. I told PB about seeing this painting at the Louvre when in Paris a month ago, and had bought a similar postcard. PB said "Look at this couple— simple farm folks, yet how humble, thanking the earth for their daily food. We should keep our heart always simple and sincere just like that." Whenever we ate together whether it's lunch or dinner, PB would always say a short prayer: “Thank you for this food on the table. May it nourish our body, illumine our mind, strengthen our spirit— O Mind of the World.” Now whenever I eat, I'm reminded of PB's prayer and Millet's L'Angelus. PB's World Mind is similar to Emerson's Over-Soul (1841)— the Supreme Spirit that transcends all duality (Emerson's essay). Poems on Prayer Let us look at two sage-poets in pure consciousness, Dante and Rumi, writing on prayer: Paradiso, Canto 33.28-39 And I, who never burned for my own vision more than I burn for his, do offer you all of my prayers— and pray that they may not fall short— that, with your prayers, you may disperse all of the clouds of his mortality so that the Highest Joy be his to see. This, too, O Queen, who can do what you would, I ask of you: that after such a vision, his sentiments preserve their perseverance. May your protection curb his mortal passions. See Beatrice— how many saints with her! They join my prayers! They clasp their hands to you!" — Dante Alighieri (1265-1321)      Paradiso 33.28-39 (1321)      translated by Allen Mandelbaum Quietness Inside this new love, die. Your way begins on the other side. Become the sky. Take an axe to the prison wall. Escape. Walk out like someone suddenly born into color. Do it now. You're covered with thick cloud. Slide out the side. Die, Your old life was a frantic running from silence. The speechless full moon comes out now. — Rumi (1207-1273)      Ode #636      The Essential Rumi (1995), p. 22      translated by Coleman Barks     A Concordance to the Divine Comedy of Dante Alighieri (1965) reveals one citation of prayer (preghiera) in Inferno 26.70 and one in Purgatorio 11.22, and none in Paradiso. Does this mean that Dante upon his arrival in paradise needs no longer pray to the heavenly host? However a survey of the word "pray" (pregare, precare) shows Dante is continually praying in his pilgrimage to paradise— Inferno (10), Purgatorio (24), Paradiso (8). Praying occurs most in Purgatory as this is the realm of the soul's purification in prepartion for paradise. I've cited Paradiso 33.28-39 as Saint Bernard prays to the Virgin Mary on Dante's behalf in his final beatific vision.     I've cited Rumi's "Quietness" as a poem on prayer since in his contemplative state of illumination, Rumi has escaped "the prison wall" of his ego and was "born into color" of cosmic consciousness. The "full moon" is out and his mind is fully awakened. Moon in a Dewdrop is a 1985 book on Zen Master Dogen (1200-1253). The Moon symbolizes enlightenment in Zen: “Enlightenment is like the moon reflected on the water. The moon does not get wet, nor is the water broken. Although its light is wide and great, the moon is reflected even in a puddle an inch wide. The whole moon and the entire sky are reflected in dewdrops on the grass, or even in one drop of water. Enlightenment does not divide you, just as the moon does not break the water. You cannot hinder enlightenment, just as a drop of water does not hinder the moon in the sky. The depth of the drop is the height of the moon. Each reflection, however long or short its duration, manifests the vastness of the dewdrop, and realizes the limitlessness of the moonlight in the sky.” It's interesting that Dogen & Rumi were contemporaries. They are seeing the same full moon in Japan and Turkey shining in the night sky. While Zen master Dogen writes about the moon symbolizing enlightenment, Sufi master Rumi does likewise in his "Quietness" poem as his mind leaps to the other side and becomes the sky. John Denver had an epiphany when he was on the phone in Shanghai talking to his wife in Minnesota, and realized that though they were a half a world away, they were seeing the same full moon in the sky. This inspired his song "Shanghai Breezes"— "And the moon and the stars are the same ones you see, it's the same old sun up in the sky. And your voice in my ear is like heaven to me like the breezes here in old Shanghai."     When I see the nine sages cited above living in pure cosmic consciousness still in a state of prayer, who am I to be so presumptuous to claim of no need for prayer? I now realized that my writing poems began in August 1972 during my first trip to Europe. I had written a letter to the sage Paul Brunton (PB) requesting a meeting, and sought to purify my mind by meditating on sunsets and artworks that inspired me. When I did meet PB, he told me that he was not a guru, but the guru is within me. I made my lab at Brandeis a garden of meditation and made the 20 amino acids my elfin friends. Hence I was able to predict protein structures from their amino acid sequences and delve into the language of nature without computer calculations. After changing my career from biochemistry to poetry in 1987, it took awhile to learn and write free verse. I learned that my best poems are those that end in surprise which I didn't anticipate when writing them. Here are two such poems ending in prayer: "The Study of Transformation" (1992) and "Speculations on the Soul" (1993). I thank Kay Ryan for bringing Christopher Smart's "A Song to David" for reading and discussion in class. It triggered these ruminations about poetry and prayer as well as revisiting sages and poets whom I hold so dear.