In view of the fact

Stabroek News Sunday - - LETTERS -

de­press­ing al­ter­na­tive.

I do not find I am en­joy­ing life less as I get older and the re­al­ity of one’s death nat­u­rally gets closer. The joys and sat­is­fac­tions, it is of course true, have changed their com­plex­ion but who is to say that what de­lighted me then is su­pe­rior to what de­lights me now in the ex­pe­ri­ence of life, whose ever-chang­ing na­ture is one of the glo­ries of cre­ation. Then the car­ni­val of senses counted most, the blaze of ac­tion was best, to be teth­ered down at rest was life wasted. Now plea­sures have qui­eted down, they have sim­pli­fied, they have even per­haps deep­ened into a more last­ing con­tent­ment of the spirit.

I am al­ways read­ing poetry and dis­cov­er­ing new poets—new to me, that is. A.R Am­mons is one such poet. I find he is fa­mous on the Amer­i­can lit­er­ary scene but un­til re­cently I had never read his work. One of the good things that keep on hap­pen­ing is that no mat­ter how old one gets any day that dawns may, and very of­ten does, bring a new dis­cov­ery, a new won­der, an en­counter with some­thing in­trigu­ing, de­light­fully dif­fer­ent, thought-pro­vok­ing – life seen sud­denly from a new an­gle. I am sur­prised it has taken so long for me to get to know A.R. Am­mons. But now I have him danc­ing in my mind. And in his poetry I find a poem which could not ex­press bet­ter what one comes to think as one gets to my age. This is the well-writ­ten truth about life and death. The poem is:

In View of the Fact The peo­ple of my time are pass­ing away: my

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