I first heard this poem in the TV show Breaking Bad, and it really clicked with me. I love the rising tension and frustration of the first half, and the relief and sudden peace of the final lines. Simple and beautiful.

When I heard the learn’d astronomer;
When the proofs, the figures, were ranged in columns before me;
When I was shown the charts and the diagrams, to add, divide, and measure them;
When I, sitting, heard the astronomer, where he lectured with much applause in the lecture-room,
How soon, unaccountable, I became tired and sick;
Till rising and gliding out, I wander’d off by myself,
In the mystical moist night-air, and from time to time,
Look’d up in perfect silence at the stars.

Walt Whitman
Leaves of Grass (1900)


Season’s Promise

January 7, 2012

Never fell an autumn leaf,
With more reason but to fall,
And never came the springtime,
But to answer winter’s call.

Never was love by summer given,
That did not with summer fade,
Never shall season’s promise last,
Beyond season’s promise made.