That famous field where nodding poppies sway
In sunlit grass, where Souls of all the good
Spend sweet Eternity in dance and play
And with the gods, take Beauty as their food
Upon the isle across the sea
That circles all the mortal world
With misty waters like a castle moat –
How like must that famed meadow be
To these fair fields where late I’ve strolled
These hills and lanes, these woods, this very spot!
Was it vain pomp or blind naïveté
That made the folk of ancient Egypt style
Their image of divine Eternity
Upon their earthly land astride the Nile?
Where they might hunt in starry creeks
Beside the starry waterway
Or find in starry gardens sweet, cool shade?
Or likewise made the clan of Greeks
Use Grecian fields where grasses sway
As models for their paradisal glade?
But no, let neither supposition stand
I say, that it was rather that they paid
The greatest compliment to their dear land
When seeing Beauty there, “Divine!” they said
And so to English Summer Time
Such compliment I wish to pay
As will the praise of those old pagans match
The heaven forming in my mind
The isle to which I’ll cross one day
Has village greens and homes with roofs of thatch.
What’s Freyja’s meadow Folkvang after all
Where valkyries take half the great and best
If not the field with rushes growing tall
Where Hathor greets arrivals in the West?
And what’s that place where Arthur dwells
Where all of Nature’s fruitful gifts
The generous soil untended freely yields –
That apple isle, which by their spells
Nine sisters shroud in faery mists –
What’s Avalon if not the Elysian Fields?
A garden by the platform has been made
not seen by those who wait for trains, frustrated
I turn and wander through this well-kempt glade
and quickly find my own mood is placated.
Some stepping stones a rustic pathway make
through beds with shrubs and flowers decorated
What would be waste is tamed by hoe and rake
now seen by me and much appreciated.
A secret sidestep from the mundane march
How long in humble silence has it waited
For someone to step through the bowered arch?
How long to be enjoyed, appreciated?
Who planned ahead and knew the time to toil?
Our need for cold-month cheer anticipated
by planting bulbs for colour in the soil?
Their caring forethought is appreciated.
Still further in, the glade becomes a copse
A host of lofty trees is congregated
And woodland birds sing out from in their tops
As if to say they too appreciate it
To those who’ve conjured spaces of respect
sweet public plots to Calmness consecrated
in places that had suffered from neglect
Just so you know: it is appreciated.
O fine, faff-free and labour-saving key
That lets me lock and unlock, with one press,
The car remotely and most easily
For you my heart now fills with thankfulness
Let’s say it’s raining and one stands
With luggage in both hands
It’s been a busy day and one is tired
How glad one feels to then recall
A single button press is all
That is required!
Hephaestus for the gods with rarest skill
Did many a shining bronze device design
Some tool that leapt to action at their will
Performing tasks befitting lives divine:
Their gold cars pulled by brazen steed
Through air at such a speed
As lighting that precedes the thunder’s rumble
We feel ourselves to be their kin
When gracefully we enter in
Without a fumble
So unimpeded in the car I climb
And like a king upon a throne I sit
And cruise the country lanes in state sublime
Like Bacchus in his magic vine-filled ship
And as my homeward way I wend
I know at journey’s end
There waits for me a happy circumstance:
I’ll loose the safety belt and out
I’ll get and walk away without
A backwards glance.
In the previous blog posts I’ve looked at the ode as way poetry can confer on us the dignity that the Soul is due, like the way the ancient Mystery initiations created a self-image of kinship with those of starry heaven (the gods) and thus the right to pass along the Sacred Way to Elysium rather than flitting around as a mere shade in the Afterlife. So Pindar says his ode is an arrow with the power to confer the same type of glory as that present in the heroes who have passed to Elysium, a power only initiates will understand.
But as well as conferring the dignity of the hero / demigod on your life, there is another road to Elysium, which is about conferring dignity upon the landscapes you inhabit by means of the status that comes from the idea that epic adventures of heroes and heroines, gods and goddesses have taken place within it. This is the realm of the epic. It’s about mythic geography, and Dreamtime, and morphic resonance, and sacred space. It’s about narrative and quest. It is not, therefore, the zone of odes. A different type of poetry works best here: heroic verse. There is a different muse: Calliope rather than Euterpe.
Heroic verse generally consists of rhyming couplets of iambic pentameter. The simple a, a, b, b, c, c, d, d (etc.) rhyming pattern, plus constant use of lines of the same meter and the lack of structured stanzas means it’s relatively easy to write and easy to read. It has to be, because it’s used to tell long stories, stories that you will inhabit for weeks at a time. It’s heroic in the sense that it follows the adventures of heroes but also because it gives the impression of being the result of a heroic creative effort, just because the poems are so long. Yes, it is a big effort, but actually once you get into the rhythm of it, these couplets of pentameter are easier to rattle off than you might think. The reader isn’t really expecting or looking for mind-blowing particular lines – they’re in it for the long haul and are thinking of the bigger picture, but all the same, because the structure is simpler, I find it’s much easier to work in those rhetorical devices we looked at in Section 5.
In what way is this a road to Elysium? Although it’s not about expressing gratitude in rapturous tones, it is still about conferring dignity. In this case, it’s the dignity of place that comes from a myth about great events happening in that location, and it weaves together various locations by means of the journey of the protagonists. If the myth catches on, a resonance then occurs, transpersonally, in morphic fields, so that the story becomes imprinted into the Idea of Place. Have you travelled round the Greek islands with an awareness of the stories of place? It’s quite something. If the mythic imprint becomes strong enough, there is an expansive feel in that place if you go there and activate the field, just because transpersonal resonance is by nature a kind of magical thing – it lifts us out of the cave of the particular and reminds us of our interconnection with Universal Mind.
That is why in aboriginal Australian tradition, going walkabout in the landscape of the ancestors and re-singing the myths of place as you walk through them is called entering the Dreamtime. This recognises a shift in consciousness to a more collective level, closer to the creator spirits (the gods). So a location where events of the heroic age are held to have taken place has an enriched Dreamtime that takes it one step closer to the gods. While in the Mysteries you said ‘I can pass along the Sacred Way to Elysium because I am a child of the gods of starry heaven,’ a mythic geography on the other hand says that the energy of starry heaven actually infuses and interpenetrates the place I live in because of the stories that hover in its aura. In fact, these myths can get extra potency by grounding the patterns of the stars or planets in Hermetic fashion – as above, so below, thereby tapping into the resonance of the old star myths and grounding this into the local setting. So it takes you closer to Elysium by bringing Elysium closer to where you are, bringing the Universal into the Particular.
This is not, however, the place to look at this in any detail, because this site is about gratitude poems, primarily odes, but also sonnets, as well as the lighter gratilude. There is scientific backing for the benefits of regularly expressing gratitude, but I don’t know if any studies have been done on the direct benefits of activating resonance with mythic geographies. Although I don’t doubt such benefits exits, the lack of science means I can’t assume that this idea would appeal to the same audience.
I have dabbled in heroic verse. In fact, I have almost completed a mini epic set in Britain, all based on a sacred geometric plan for the nation. This poem just needs finishing off. Who knows, it could find its way into a later publication. It might seem like a vain project given that such mythic geographies in the past have become effective only after many generations of fame have strongly imprinted the morphic field, but I hoped to speed things up by developing out of the geometric plan a Hermetic as-above-so-below planetary scheme (using the associations of planets with gods) plus the enhanced resonance that comes from following the muses and enlisting the help of synchronicity. But it would be wrong to include the poem here, in a site about gratitude poems.
Why then, do I mention heroic verse here? Partly, I always wanted this series of posts to have twelve sections, even though the plan I had roughed out for it didn’t have that many. Twelve’s a good round number, isn’t it? Twelve months, twelve astrological houses, twelve hours in the day and twelve in the night, twelve disciples, twelve tribes. 2 x 2 x 3. Three squares or four triangles. But it’s also because I think it’s worth admitting that there’s more than one way to do these things. A river generally keeps its bounds for the full extent of its journey but ultimately joins the sea, and it’s the same for these posts – they deal with odes but now as we get to the end we can look up and remember there’s a wider landscape; there’s not just one type of poem.
Are there yet other poetic roads that lead to Elysium, beyond ekphrasis, odes and heroic verse? Probably, but I can’t at present think what they would be. But what can definitely be said is that there are other roads using different modes other than poetry. For example, there is song. In song you don’t just assign one beat to a syllable. You can stretch a syllable out over several notes. You can also place the stress in syncopated places. Some use this as an excuse to be less precise about things, but actually it doesn’t necessarily mean taking short cuts and saying what you want to say with less crafting. It can actually work the other way round. You can do it artfully, only stretching or syncopating or squeezing for deliberate musical reasons, with a very skilled level of crafting to the wording to make it fit this chosen musical pattern. When you get “take a sad song and make it better” in one verse, and “you have found her, now go and get her” in the next, not only is there a rhyme occurring across verses, but also the same pattern of the last syllable of the line moving over the same notes, in the same rhythm, and not to make the words fits, but conversely to improve the melody. And of course the melody itself, as well as the harmony and overall progression and the sonic textures and rhythm, add further levels of feeling and beauty and dynamism. And from music are born other modes of expression, such as dance.
Music is definitely worth mentioning here before we end, because it is undoubtedly an enhanced way for humans to get to know what amplified, intense rapture feels like. In other words, music, like fasting, can help you learn about gratitude (and as you know, I think you should combine the two with Hungry Dawn Raving).
What is the musical equivalent of a gratitude ode? It depends whether you’re talking about i) the rapturous emotion itself upon which the poet is reflecting, or whether you are thinking of ii) the ode as an act of calm reflection after a moment of rapture, or instead you could have in mind iii) the longer term general boost to mood that comes from regularly expressing gratitude.
- There’s no doubt in my mind that there is no other form of music that comes anywhere close to certain sub-genres of electronic Trance music for invoking the feeling of rapture. These subgenres (which overlap a fair bit) are Uplifting, Emotional, Progressive, Epic and Orchestral. You can’t communicate the rush of rapture without that racing pulse, that throbbing, shamanic beat at the human celebration/bounce frequency of between 130-140bpm (i.e. the most comfortable leaping/jumping pace – the speed at which we naturally dance when dancing means leaving the ground between steps). This beat is firmly hardwired into us as the activator of the Celebration Response.
- If you’re thinking of the ode as a later moment of calm, considered reflection, on the other hand – well-measured, carefully composed, highly ordered – then you’re probably looking at some kind of mellow classical music on piano or lute or strings, perhaps an adagio or sonata or prelude, or something like that.
- If you’re thinking of the longer term mood boost from regular expressions of gratitude, then it’s just going to be something upbeat and positive and chirpy. It could be some summery reggae, or some jaunty jazz, some perky bluegrass, or, well, whatever happy music takes your fancy in the moment. Communal group singing has been shown to be a great way to uplift mood, and I can see how something like, say, gospel, could carry feelings of gratitude.
Having opened things up to consider other artistic modes, finally it remains for this river, in its final moment of dissolving into the sea, to open up completely by reminding you that I’m just one writer with my own take on these matters, but there are many other valid takes out there, including your own, so…over to you.
I’m going to continue with my own ode journal, and may continue to post some of the odes to this site, but I won’t be doing any more blogging about the process of it. I may go off and turn the 12 post into some kind of book, but this won’t be posted online.
For aromatic oils in herbs and shrubs
Let thanks rise to the gods, from whence they fell
When one but holds the leaves and gently rubs
There issues forth a mystic, fragrant smell
The living plants will ornament
A tended garden plot
The plants will then provide yet further gifts
For sprigs of these ingredients
When added to the cooking pot
The taste uplifts
Hellenic folk in golden ages old
These perfumes of the plants sought to explain
With stories down the generations told
Of how such shrubs some pretty nymph contain
How when Apollo yearned to kiss
Sweet Daphne, she, forlorn
With all speed did attempt to run away
Then saving metamorphosis
The pretty maiden did transform
To odorous bay
O Sage! O Thyme! O Rosemary! I praise
Your power to boost our health, our pain to ease
Our memory to strengthen, moods to raise
Our sense of sight and smell and taste to please
It must have been when we first burnt
Dry incense, or with mint
We first less pleasant tastes and smells disguised
That we, now that at last we’d learnt
To add a subtle herbal hint
A recurring theme in the Glory of Glad has been the way Odes can reframe things in a dignified manner. The idea I’ve been reiterating is that while you could just keep a basic gratitude journal to raise mood, if you really feel glad about something, why not show that it really matters to you by writing something far more dignified – a full blown Ode.?
But there will be draw back if this is all you do. Why? Because it’s likely to be consistently serious. The whole point of what we’re doing here is to raise mood by practicing gratitude. The self-image of the serious poet has become rather infused with the picture of the suffering artist, condemned by their nature to sink from time to time into the miserable, maudlin depths of gloom. To have an ongoing good mood, on the other hand, it is obviously vital to be able to lighten up, to see the funny side.
Yes, we want to harness the power of the heavenly ode; no, we don’t want to become po faced.
So I’ve come up with a solution, one that is a lot of fun and which will only expand your options for expressing gratitude. You see, one of the things that’s been found about keeping a gratitude journal is that it doesn’t matter hugely what you express gratitude for, as long as you express gratitude for something. It is the act of expressing gratitude that raises mood. Enter the Gratilude ( “gratitude” + “interlude”.) After a few serious odes, stick in a Gratilude to lighten things up. Gratiludes are short, and easy to compose, and give you the chance, therefore, to quickly bump up the number of things you’re expressing thanks for in your journal, while simultaneously lightening the mood after your more lofty odes. This really is the final ingredient that makes the whole recipe zing. Here’s one:-
To a Doily (A Gratilude)
What a marvellous thing is a doily!
What a wonderful thing to possess!
How divine to be able
To fling on the table
The essence of delicateness!
Gratiludes, therefore, are little, light-hearted poems, almost like limericks. They still express gratitude for something, but in a more frivolous way. They’ll tend to take a mere material object as their theme. They might be partly tongue in cheek – a bit of a parody of a proper ode. They don’t have to be side-splittingly hilarious, though, because comedy is not their sole purpose – they are still, at the end of the day, gratitude poems, they’re just not so weighty.
Here’s another example. Some more follow lower down.
To a Tea Cosy
O Tea Cosy! Tea Cosy! Tea Cosy!
What endeavour could ever be finer
Than, as if it did live,
To most gallantly give
A warm coat to your favourite china?
A lead here comes from the theatrical Dionysia festival of ancient Athens. Even before the Athenians began including full blown comedies as well as the tragedies in the Dionysia, already they had the satyr plays. Each playwright would put on one satyr play and three serious performances. These satyr plays provided comic relief, and were full of bawdy fun, satire and general merriment. The Gratilude is very much like the satyr play – a short interlude for light relief. If we go with the same 3 : 1 ratio as for the satyr plays, then with as few as, say, five short gratiludes, you have enough to cover a full fifteen lofty odes, and believe me a Gratilude doesn’t take long to write. Here’s another:
To a Bed
Oh how grand are clean duvets and sheets
On a well-made and comfortable mattress!
Yes it has to be said
What a boon is a bed
And big pillows all plumped up with fatness
Does this mean your journal will be pulling in two directions at once? Not at all. We’re not talking about undermining that sense of dignity we’ve been establishing with our odes; we’re just talking about introducing a lightness and fluidity and adding another string to the bow. The very act of dignifying ourselves reminds us that we deserve good things, and laughter itself truly is one of life’s good things. Here’s another Gratilude:
What ecstatical things are galoshes!
(The name that we call’em, I mean)
It’s half “gallop” / half “slosh”,
Oh my word! Oh my gosh!
The whole concept is just such a dream!