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I Dwell in Possibility

Emily Dickinson wrote this beautiful poem. With questions, I dwell in possibility. Poetry calls gently to me, leaves a space that I can peer into, and observe that which moves my soul. Without questions, there would be no answers and no certainty. That seems odd and paradoxical, but seems very real to me. Questions allow me real faith and a belief in those things I cannot touch. They are there and I know they are.

I dwell in Possibility–
A fairer House than Prose–
More numerous of Windows–
Superior–for Doors–

Of Chambers as the Cedars–
Impregnable of Eye–
And for an Everlasting Roof
The Gambrels of the Sky–

Of Visitors–the fairest–
For Occupation–This–
The spreading wide my narrow Hands
To gather Paradise–

About ivonprefontaine

I have been an educator for almost 20 years. Prior to that, I worked in private industry for 15 years, then returned to university to earn my education degree. For the past 11 years, I have been a co-creator of learning in a unique, progressive, alternative educational school of choice. Currently, I am engaged in a doctoral program at Gonzaga University in Spokane. A main theme in my learning there has been the roles of systems thinking, complexity theory, and organizational theory, and how they apply to education generally and the learning environment I share with students, parents, and colleagues.

15 responses »

  1. Lovely poem by Emily Dickinson. I always enjoy her poetry. I’m with you on the questions providing you with faith. Having all the answers can feel contrived when it comes to the untouchable and invisible.

    Reply
  2. This is very beautiful. The words, “poetry calls to me,” reminded me of you and your lovely poems.

    Reply
    • Poets I have spoken to or read speak about the words and imagery calling to them. I think it is what sets it aside from prose, although writers such as Paolo Coehlo have a way of infusing their prose with poetry.

      Reply
  3. Thanks for the share… Emily knows her words!

    Reply
  4. One of my favorites of hers goes something like this:

    Hope is a thing with feathers
    That perches on the soul
    It sings a song without the words
    and never stops at all.

    I simply love the imagery; Yes Emily knows her words!

    Reply
  5. Pingback: Poetry Beckons « Teacher as Transformer

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