A Reflection On Being Refused
Atop that bare and lonely cliff
perched high above the town,
I stood with her and wondered if
her silence and her frown
could be relieved with any word
that said how much I loved her.
Now thinking back on what I heard,
I wish I would have shoved her.
You don’t have a soul. You are a soul.
You have a body.—C.S. Lewis
Transcendent and laconic,
a notion quite Platonic,
this quip by C.S. Lewis
delivers sagely to us
a mythic salve and tonic.
And though I’ve heard and read it
from those who sow and spread it
in New Age mantra-phonic,
it’s risibly ironic.
What’s more—he never said it!
Richard Meyer, a former English and humanities teacher, lives in the home his father built in Mankato, a city at the bend of the Minnesota River. His poems have appeared in a variety of publications and journals. He was awarded the 2012 Robert Frost Farm Prize for his poem “Fieldstone” and was the recipient of the 2014 String Poet Prize for his poem “The Autumn Way.” A book of his collected poems, Orbital Paths, was published in September 2015.