Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Completely without

Bereft: the simple past tense form of 'to bereave'. To be without something necessary or desirable. The lack of distinction between 'necessary' and 'desirable' pinpoints the difficulty in overcoming this wholly palpable feeling. Not only do you want it, you need it. And it is gone.

I thought I would give a go at describing the sense of despair so empty, so complete, that you are capable of thinking in only Nietzsche-inspired phrases that catapult you back to early university and the discomfort of 20 years of age. Thankfully, Robert Frost saved us all from that particular fate, with his ever-rich words:

Bereft
Where had I heard this wind before
Change like this to a deeper roar?
What would it take my standing there for,
Holding open a restive door,
Looking down hill to a frothy shore?
Summer was past and the day was past.
Sombre clouds in the west were massed.
Out on the porch's sagging floor,
Leaves got up in a coil and hissed,
Blindly struck at my knee and missed.
Something sinister in the tone
Told me my secret must be known:
Word I was in the house alone
Somehow must have gotten abroad,
Word I was in my life alone,
Word I had no one left but God. 
- Robert Frost