S4 E10: August Moonrise by Sara Teasdale
I am on a leisurely walk in a North Vancouver nature park. I feel the tranquil embrace of August enticing me to pause, and breathe deeply under the canopy of trees. I take out a poem by Sara Teasdale that I have chosen to recite to the stillness around me – August Moonrise.
Celebrating the coming of August with Sara Teasdale
Welcome to a serene exploration of Sara Teasdale’s profound literary legacy amidst the tranquil beauty of August.
Nature’s Transcendence
In this poignant poem, Sara Teasdale departs from her previous themes of love and loss, delving into the post-World War I disillusionment and embracing a more existential tone. The speaker’s immersion in the beauty of nature provides a brief respite from the harsh realities of life. The vivid imagery of the moonrise and the forest evokes a profound sense of awe and wonder, while the questioning of the soul’s existence is juxtaposed with the solace found in the belief that beauty can transcend death. Through this lens, the poem stands as a testament to the enduring power of nature to inspire and provide meaning in the face of life’s uncertainties.
August Moonrise
by Sara Teasdale
The sun was gone, and the moon was coming
Over the blue Connecticut hills;
The west was rosy, the east was flushed,
And over my head the swallows rushed
This way and that, with changeful wills.
I heard them twitter and watched them dart
Now together and now apart
Like dark petals blown from a tree;
The maples stamped against the west
Were black and stately and full of rest,
And the hazy orange moon grew up
And slowly changed to yellow gold
While the hills were darkened, fold on fold
To a deeper blue than a flower could hold.
Down the hill I went, and then
I forgot the ways of men,
For night-scents, heady, and damp and cool
Wakened ecstasy in me
On the brink of a shining pool.
O Beauty, out of many a cup
You have made me drunk and wild
Ever since I was a child,
But when have I been sure as now
That no bitterness can bend
And no sorrow wholly bow
One who loves you to the end?
And though I must give my breath
And my laughter all to death,
And my eyes through which joy came,
And my heart, a wavering flame;
If all must leave me and go back
Along a blind and fearful track
So that you can make anew,
Fusing with intenser fire,
Something nearer your desire;
If my soul must go alone
Through a cold infinity,
Or even if it vanish, too,
Beauty, I have worshipped you.
Let this single hour atone
For the theft of all of me.
This poem is in the public domain.
Thank you, dear listeners, for embracing the timeless beauty of Sara Teasdale’s “August Moonrise” with me. Your presence added depth and warmth to this poetic journey, enriching our shared experience amidst the time of August. May we continue to cherish the profound themes of love, nature, and existential contemplation woven eloquently by Teasdale’s pen. Here’s to many more moments of poetic inspiration together.
Photography and Recitation by Rebecca Budd
Location: Lower Seymour Conservation Reserve, North Vancouver
Music by Epidemic Sound
“Colors in Movement” By Johannes Bornlöf
https://www.epidemicsound.com/track/Pomv6C3lbP/
