Can Love and Life's Purpose be Rationalized?

I was going through my bookshelf the other day and found a book I had purchased as a teenager entitled, "Six Centuries of Great Poetry." I racked my brain trying to remember why on earth I would have bought such a book back then, but the only rational explanation I could come up with was that it was a necessary book for one of my English classes in high-school.

In any event, I decided to reread some of the centuries old poems in this book while taking a nice, hot bath. I never really found poetry all that exciting in high-school. Most likely, I just didn't possess enough life experiences to understand or appreciate it. However, when I opened the book and began reading, I found myself internally saying, "yeah! I know that feeling! I know what it feels like to love and experience loss -- yes, it really is better than never loving at all."

Or is it?

One of the most important aspects of living and probably our most quintessential desire is that of love. For better or for worse, love forces us to grow up and experience aspects of ourselves we might not initially care to realize. If we are hungry, we eat. If we don't eat, we starve. Love, in a more abstract way, is much like this. We require love -- to be loved and to share our love in order to grow and learn. We may not die without love, but we most certainly will perish on the inside.

But what about this whole "loving and losing is better than never having loved at all?" Well, on one hand the act of experiencing love in any number of its various facades is a most rewarding experience. It truly brings us closer to ourselves/god/purpose/etc. However, losing a love is always painful -- especially considering every love we experience is unique and special. I do believe that when we choose to love another and that love fails, a piece of us goes with the other and vice-versa. In essence, a piece of our essence is ripped from our "spirit" and sent along with the other. Think of this -- do you think you are a different person after having shared in a love with someone than you were before you loved them?

I'm about to drop some poetry, so I'll be very impressed and proud if you choose to continue reading. The first poem is by Robert Herrick and is entitled, "Proof to No Purpose."

YOU see this gentle stream that glides,
Shov'd on, by quick succeeding tides ;
Try if this sober stream you can
Follow to th' wilder ocean,
And see if there it keeps unspent
In that congesting element.
Next, from that world of waters, then
By pores and caverns back again
Induct that inadult'rate same
Stream to the spring from whence it came.
This with a wonder when ye do,
As easy, and else easier too,
Then may ye recollect the grains
Of my particular remains,
After a thousand lusters hurl'd,
By ruffling winds about the world.

This poem deals with life and its lack of apparent purpose. Hell, even the title of the poem could serve as a pretty big clue. He is comparing life to that of a stream of water that ends up returning to the ocean, only to repeat the cycle ad infinitum. This, of course, is far easier than picking up his remains and "throwing them into the air" and coming out with the same person that has perished. Life has no meaning because, in the end, we're all going to end up grains of sand or as the group Kansas so eloquently put it, "Dust in the Wind."

The second poet I will recite was born in the same year that Herrick met his great ocean -- 1674. Isaac Watts writes about life's purpose in a subtly different way in his poem, "Horace Paraphrased."

THERE are a number of us creep

Into this world to eat and sleep,

And know no reason why they're born

But merely to consume the corn,

Devour the cattle, fowl and fish,

And leave behind an empty dish.

The crows and ravens do the same,

Unlucky birds of hateful name;

Ravens or crows might fill their place,

And swallow corn and carcases.

Then if their toombstone when they die

Ben't taught to flatter and to lie,

There's nothing better will be said

Than that "They've up and eat all their bread,

Drank up their dring and gone to bed.

This poem is markedly more dismal in my opinion than Herrick's. Perhaps it's due to the fact that he's comparing my purpose to that of a crow. No matter how enriched I think my life becomes or how noble my goals, I am still fulfilling the same programmed needs that a crow or raven does through their life. While Herrick simply questions purpose, Watts seems to shit all over it.

But that's just fine, because I'll skip ahead to a few poems on love that leave me feeling warm and, well, purposeful. No "old school" poet brings out the best of love's emotions quite like Lord Byron. Take for instance his poem, "When we Two Parted."

When we two parted
In silence and tears,
Half broken-hearted
To sever for years,
Pale grew thy cheek and cold,
Colder thy kiss;
Truly that hour foretold
Sorrow to this.

The dew of the morning
Sunk chill on my brow--
It felt like the warning
Of what I feel now.
Thy vows are all broken,
And light is thy fame;
I hear thy name spoken,
And share in its shame.

They name thee before me,
A knell to mine ear;
A shrudder comes o'er me--
Why wert thou so dear?
They know not I knew thee,
Who knew thee so well--
Long, long I shall rue thee,
Too deeply to tell.

In secret we met--
In silence I grieve,
That thy heart could forget,
Thy spirit deceive
If I should meet thee
After long years,
How should I greet thee?--
With silence and tears.

Wow, that really gets you right in the heart, doesn't it? I don't think this poem really needs explanation -- we've all been there. He's writing specifically about the whole "better to have loved and lost" thing.

Until next time ...

Ps: Do you have a favorite poem?