An e.e. cummings Thanksgiving for Pantheists, Pagans, Generic Mystics, Animists, Deists, Theists, Agnostics, Atheists, and Doubting Methodists

A friend's request to see my photos of the new-to-me golden-crowned kinglet made me think of e.e. cummings’ Poem 53 and hear it as a thanks-giving as well as its more obvious prayer of beseeching and urging oneself. The world is rich and not entirely logical; let me perceive and love it for those reasons, contradictory as they may seem. Poem 53 might be too sentimental for some, but how does one dispute its argument? 

(In my cummings book, Line 7 begins “and even,” not “for even”—I suspect Garrison Keillor’s secretary was typing on Sunday):    

http://writersalmanac.publicradio.org/index.php?date=2011/12/31

Also consider Poem 53 as a reply to Janet Loxley Lewis’ “Austerity” in my last post. Would she and e.e. cummings have hated each other? Are they actually disagreeing in these two poems?  How bitterly? Which side of the argument are you partial to—cummings’ “little birds” or Loxley Lewis’ “monotony” of stars?

And now that I've caused myself to think in pairs, then, how can I re-post the golden-crowned kinglet without his cousin (I assume), the ruby-crowned kinglet? Do you have a favorite? Do you love one child more than the other? 

You see, this is how football begins: you feel a kinship with a team's location or uniform and soon enough you're a tribalist, betting on Roman gladiators who rumble in the dirt, making themselves metaphors for war. And yet, I'm a fan, sort of. 

It must be Sunday: I'm not making sense; surely I'm wrong. And therefore blessed.

Happy eating-drinking-observing-thinking! 

http://writersalmanac.publicradio.org/index.php?date=2011/12/31

There wasn’t a lot of commentary when I posted Poem 53 in May of 2010. Maybe it will be different this time.

http://banjo52.blogspot.com/search?q=cummings+poem+53