Doors closed, and I pressed the button for my floor, setting down heavy shopping bags that bit into my hand. Out of habit, my eyes turned to the plastic sleeve on the wall with announcements for upcoming tenant activities or events in the local Square.
Nothing colorful, this time, but just a plain typed page with no images. Black on white in an everyday font, it appeared to be a poem. I began to read and was captivated by the words. As I drank in emotions conveyed through the poetry, I rode the elevator for several extra floors. Before exiting, I committed the title and writer’s name to memory.
Further inquiry revealed that the author, Jane Kenyon, had lived an existence of beauty, love, and longing. A life ended much too early, her story captured my imagination. Born and educated in my home state of Michigan, Ms. Kenyon met and married the poet, Donald Hall, later moving to New Hampshire. She worked as both a translator and poet, often writing about nature and the struggle of dealing with depression. She was serving as New Hampshire’s poet laureate when leukemia took her at the young age of 47.
I have since enjoyed reading many other offerings by Jane Kenyon, but that first poem, “Otherwise,” resonates with me more than any. The words serve as a stark reminder to appreciate the special gifts of each day. Take notice, it says, “one day…it will be otherwise,” and you will no longer have this.
Since that time, no other poetry has appeared in the elevators of my building. Maybe it was never there at all?
Otherwise
I got out of bed
on two strong legs.
It might have been
otherwise. I ate
cereal, sweet
milk, ripe, flawless
peach. It might
have been otherwise.
I took the dog uphill
to the birch wood.
All morning I did
the work I love.
At noon I lay down
with my mate. It might
have been otherwise.
We ate dinner together
at a table with silver
candlesticks. It might
have been otherwise.
I slept in a bed
in a room with paintings
on the walls, and
planned another day
just like this day.
But one day, I know,
it will be otherwise.
—Jane Kenyon 1947-1995
What a moving poem, no wonder it stayed with you.
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Thank you so much! I’m glad that you enjoyed it, too.
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Wonderful poem. Glad I stopped to read it, or it might have been otherwise. Thank you for sharing it with us.
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Exactly! Thanks so much for reading and commenting.
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What a beautiful, beautiful expression of gratitude for the gift of life. I also love the story of how you came to find it.
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Thanks, Liz. I appreciate your comments!
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I wonder who put the poem there and what they were feeling. Thanks for sharing it here! It’s lovely that you went on to know the poet and her work from this beginning.
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I almost asked about this in the office, Maria, but decided that I liked it better not knowing:)
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Guerrilla poetry definitely has a certain appeal about it.
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Yes, I agree!
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Lovely poem – thanks for sharing !
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Thank YOU for reading!
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Thanks for sharing this poem.
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You’re welcome, Paul; I’m glad that you liked it.
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Its lovely! I love how it found you.
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Thanks, and I’m glad that you also appreciate it, Lisa. I also like the way that you put that…how the poem “found” me:)
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An absolutely amazing poem, Becky. Very powerful.
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I appreciate you taking a look at this, Dave. Happy that you like it, too!
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Hauntingly beautiful poem–Thanks so much for introducing me to this author and this poem. I also like the idea of hanging poetry on elevator doors, in public spaces. I think I want to do this now–or at least look for it in public spaces–maybe more people are hanging poetry to be read and I’ve not noticed. How awful! I’ll check the elevators from now on:)
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You’re so welcome, Cecelia, and I’m glad that it spoke to you, too! Yes, I like the idea of finding poetry here and there…
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I know absolutely nothing of poetry but I loved this. It speaks of gratitude to me.
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Yes, I do think that’s part of it. I’m happy that you liked this, too, Marlene!
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This is the best kind of poetry to me, when the poem invites the reader in to share the poet’s experience in a way that is meaningful to each of us. There is some poetry that is so self-referential to the poet, it presents a closed door to the reader.
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You make a very good point, Liz!
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Wow, Becky, this is really good. I felt a sense of enjoyment/love and just a little depression all at the same time.
Thank you for sharing, I’m glad I saw this!
Blessings,
Debbie
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You’re welcome, Debbie! I certainly agree about all those emotions being at play in this poem.
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So bittersweet and moving.
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I’m happy to hear that you enjoyed this, as well.
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What a witty, poignant poem – thank you for sharing, Becky:)
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You’re so welcome! Thanks for reading, Sarah.
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You’re welcome!
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I love special little moments like this one of yours. You have to be paying attention to catch them. I think that’s my takeaway.
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So true; thanks for reading!
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Beautiful poem! Thanks for sharing it! I love the way you share such small moments of pleasure and delight! Thanks for being yourself!
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Thanks, Sue. Very kind of you to say that.
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Well said, Sue!
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We just lost our dog, Jack, one month ago today. This poem resonates with me, as I am currently experiencing that “otherwise.”
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I understand, only too well. I’m glad that this poem spoke to you!
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I’m sorry to hear you lost your beloved companion.
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Thank you.
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