August Moonrise by Sara Teasdale
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/
