Harmony of the Spheres

http://www.pagesofink.com/images/2008/DancingSky_HarmonyOfTheSpheres.jpg

The following is an excerpt from a paper I presented at the Mid-Atlantic Conference for Irish Studies, years ago. I've placed information  about this same topic on my other blog, which can be reached by clicking on the photo to the right.  

Human beings have an inherent need to interact with one another. Yet, they often find themselves struggling with what appears to be the truth of their perceptions. This ambivalence leads to the categorizing of experiences as a way to manage personal reactions. Philosophers, such as Immanuel Kant and Carl Jung, as well as mathematicians, such as Pythagoras and Kepler, have clarified this management in terms of music, more specifically, the music of the spheres.

This concept illustrates that human communication parallels strict mathematical components associated with harmonics. To clarify the concept of harmony of the spheres, one can consider a musical tone that contains the original resonating frequency with overtones creating precise harmonic variations.

Pythagoras’ theory contained the idea that there was a distinct mathematical configuration, establishing a relationship of the harmonic distances between the planets. These harmonics were considered the substance of a planetary influence on the human psyche.

Centuries later, Johannes Kepler clarified this theory with his discovery that harmonic energy emanates from the sun, and there exists an exact harmonic relationship between each planet. Philosophers of the eighteenth century, such as Immanuel Kant, connect Kepler’s theory to the concept of human consciousness.

Thus, music of the spheres represents the harmonics of human thought whereby one idea, emanating from a human being, extends to another throughout the centuries, and overtones or nuances of thought create a new harmonic of the original conception. This new harmonic, then, resonates with another interpretation, and soon, there are many new concepts formed that connect with the original resonating thought.

A Long Sentence, Silence is.

Below is a poem inspired by a number of events involving my family and friends in which the long wait in a hospital sometimes has felt like a sentence. Waiting for word from medical staff on the outcome of a loved one leads to the mixed feelings of worry, loneliness, and hope. I wrote this as one very long sentence with the subject Silence and the verb, is because in these moments, we gain strength in the silence. 

 

Coole Park, Ireland

A Long Sentence 

While moist eyes wait

for word of your condition,

inquiring of God 

if I will experience your vibrance again,

though the response is "I don't know,"

though I smile to hide my tears,
though my heart yearns to beat

with the rhythm of your joy,

waiting

for the word that brings hope

for the song of your smiles 

for your breath of “yes”

within is the silence 

of a long sentence

and outside:

the wind,

the rain,

a lone lea,

me,

then the sun.

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

(To hear my reading of this poem on Pod-omatic, click HERE.)

A Steamy 'Morning' from LUMINESCENCE

One morning, the birds were in their glory: singing, chirping, and busy with their daily activities. I live in an area of Connecticut that is blessed with much beautiful greenery and wildlife. Long ago, I looked at this photograph of an abandoned canoe, and the first thing that came to mind was the tranquility of an abandoned garden on a steamy day, much like the one which is the subject of my operetta, Luminescence, an interpretation of the medieval French epyllion, Roman de la Rose. Below is an excerpt from one of the recitatives, 'Morning.'

Eugène Atget

Etang de Corot, Ville-d'Avray, 1900-1910

Morning 

(from my operetta, “Luminescence”)

The wind gracefully embraces

feathered wings of russet, crimson and blue 

that brush the highest branches of clustered trees.

Each bough gambols a synchronized dance

in rhythm with the singing birds in flight.

Their gaze intakes the scene below:

A cooling brook, purling through the twisted,

scented undergrowth, creating a reflective ribbon,

adorning this Eden with an elegant, colorful bouquet

embellishes fertile banks with mystical brilliance.

Soothing liquid-echoes honor an infinite presence.

Morning dew trickles over folded petals

and drifts down each stiffened stalk

to reach deeply into the nutritious soil.

Leaves unfurl to frame delicate flowers.

They gracefully position themselves

to receive pollen for the creation of new life

and shimmer in the morning’s glow.

Each flower silently waits

for that glorious moment of sweet surrender

in fulfillment of her quest.

As the flowers open their petals,

they attract the arrival of winged suitors,

destined to pollinate their yearning pistils.

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

I extend much gratitude to the following brilliant musicians, who have transposed an Irish melody compiled by Sydney Owenson (in 1804) into 3 of 5 musical genres for this operetta: Dr. Marjorie Callaghan (medieval) and Mr. Daniel Kean (baroque and classical).

One Toothy Smile... for a Price

Photo from Google Images: 6thsenselondon.com

One Toothy Smile... for a Price

The last time I was there,

she scrubbed and scraped

poked and prodded

flossed and fussed

asked me questions

and seemed to understand

my mouth-filled speech,

draped an x-ray proof

jacket upon me

left the room

to "take pictures"

stuffed my mouth

with fluoride cotton pillows 

and with the tray,

again left the room,

called in the physician

who poked and prodded

gaped and nodded

examined the pictures

and stated quite satisfied,

“Your teeth are fine!”

Upon checking out,

the receptionist announced,

“That’ll be $400.00, please,

and would you like to make an appointment 

for 6 months from now?”

Hmmm... I thought to myself: 

"I’ll return...

when my tooth aches

more than my wallet."

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

A Quote by William Blake and Some Thoughts

I took this photo as I was leaving Galway Beach, Ireland.

“To see a world in a grain of sand and a heaven in a wild flower 

Hold infinity in the palm of your hand and eternity in an hour.” 

~ William Blake from "Augeries of Innocence"

Sharing Views

Whenever I traveled the Irish west coast,

listening to the waves lap up on shore,

my mind would wonder: 

"Just across that ocean 

is the east coast of the United States.

Who do I know might be sharing this view?" 

Then, along the beach at Cape Cod, 

I searched the ocean's horizon 

and wondered: "Who is looking across this sea

and possibly looking right at me?"

The blue-gray waters ebb and flow

releasing endless ruminations.

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

To hear me read this, please click HERE. 

From my operetta, Luminescence: Honeysuckle (Christine de Pizan)

Honeysuckle and the Bee 

I took this photograph on one of my walks.

From my operetta, Luminescence, below is the pre- and post- recitatives, accompanying the 'voice' of Christine de Pizan, represented by the flower, Honeysuckle: 

The lovely essence of Rose’s beauty entices a hungry bee to fly closer. Her petals form a co-mingled scent with those of Honeysuckle, surrounded by Lilies of the Valley and Forget-me-nots. Honeysuckle, through the mind-set of Christine de Pizan, reflects on true respect between men and women as the ultimate example of true love: 

I am the Honeysuckle.

The name given to me is Christine de Pizan. 

I believe that men and women can and should 

live in harmony with each other,

respecting the intellectual 

as well as the physical attraction 

of man to woman and woman to man. 

The bond of the Holy Spirit in one’s life 

holds this attraction together. 

The tradition of reverent love illustrates 

the necessity of the human race 

to display loyalty, wisdom, and understanding 

in all levels of love relationships. 

Through these elements, 

love becomes a reflection of the truest gift, 

given to us by our Divine Father. 

Thus, physical love must accompany 

emotional love and intellectual respect 

to be complete.

Rose understands this need to combine the elements of intellect and desire in pursuing love. She contemplates her own reaction to the bee’s advances and ponders the warmth she feels as this creature hovers ever so intently...

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

The Long Eighteenth Century Political Writing of Sydney Owenson (Lady Morgan)

My collection of Sydney Owenson (Lady Morgan) books

Citizenry rise to proclaim their independence from legislative taxation without corresponding representation in individual communities. This cry for autonomy creates the atmosphere for the eighteenth century American colonists to stand strong against any form of tyranny and eventually to create a unique form of government “of the people, by the people, for the people.”  This concept resonates with Owenson, as she rewrites her own history to correspond with major events belonging to the American colonists’ revolutionary actions.  

In the eighteenth century, the scientific world embarks on new discoveries. Sight, sound, and the universe embody the main thought patterns during this time. In this context, Marjorie Hope Nicolson observes, “the increasing self-consciousness of the eighteenth century about the sense of sight (leads) to a growing interest in all senses, their processes, and their interrelationship, and to an awareness of the ‘harmony of the senses.’” This encompasses those sensory stimuli, which affect every aspect of the human being. 

Owenson: 

To make her native country better known, and to dissipate the political and religious prejudices that hindered its prosperity...in her works, there was always some principle to be advocated or elucidated…Neither lovers, friends, nor flatterers, ever turned her attention from the steady, settled aim of her life-- and that was to advocate the interest of her country in her writing. (Memoirs, p. 284)

In this manner,  Owenson makes references to familial attributes in her descriptions of relations between Great Britain, America, and Ireland.

 _____________________________________

Marjorie Hope Nicolson, Newton Demands the Muse: Newton's Opticks and the Eighteenth Century Poets, (Princeton, New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 1966), p 87.

My Hands, a poem

 "And let the beauty of the Lord our God be upon us: and establish thou the work of our hands upon us; yea, the work of our hands establish thou it." (Psalm 90:17)

Below is a poem with the theme of my use of hands, 

which some may think is archaic in this current era of technology:

Harp and me, one afternoon

My Hands

Turning 

weathered pages of a centuries old book,

my fingers touch a piece of history,

for this page was once turned by the fingertips

of a lady sitting by candlelight on a blue velvet chair,

her linen dress, flowing around covered ankles.

Strumming 

the strings of a vibrating harp, melodic echoes, soothe

the mind of my precious dog who lives to protect me

love me, comfort me. It's the least I can do for her.

Kneading 

dough that clings to each finger until I apply 

one more dash of flour to create 

the soft ball that will miraculously rise

to form into the sweet, aromatic sustenance of life: 

bread, feeding others with joy.

Threading 

a needle with just the right length and color 

of waxed cotton,

slowly I turn remnant pieces of cloth

into a quilted memory to comfort 

through the warmth of artistry and pragmatism.

Digging 

into rich, brown soil, I plant a seed

water, nurture, protect until one day it grows

into a savory food, the source of a satisfied smile.

Holding 

an extended hand, I feel the presence

of tender strength, our fingertips, touching,

Loving 

 brushing the tear from a dear one's eye

fond memory of the gentleness.
Praying
palm against palm, I sing a song of praise.
Humbly, I give thanks to Him,
Knowing 

His Love is undying, strengthening, 

guiding each step to fulfillment of 

His Purpose for me:

Living 

from heart to hand.

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

(To hear my reading of this poem on Pod-omatic, click HERE.)

Ekphrasis: My poem, "Haven" and the Church of St. Stephen the Martyr

Today, December 26, is the Feast of Saint Stephen. 

Below is a photo of the Church of St. Stephen the Martyr in Opotiki, New Zealand. This picture brought to mind the introduction to a collection of short stories that I will complete... one day. The poem accompanying this photo is a conversion of a portion of my prose introduction to poetic form.

Church of St Stephen the Martyr, Opotiki, ca 1910-1930

"Behold, I see heaven open and the Son of man standing at the right hand of God." 

(Acts 7:56) kjv

~ St. Stephen’s words at his theophany

Haven

They beckon 

the weary-hearted and calloused,

“Come and sit with me.”

Rows of empty pews

moor at a small altar,

each one anchored with a kneeler. 

Her candle lit,
she takes her usual seat

in the second row,

hoists the kneeler, 

then quietly moves it

to the wood floor,

genuflects in the Holy Presence, 

and blesses herself.

With eyes lowered,

she steers her troubled vessel

on an ethereal air,

through prayerful sighs

to the Haven of hope,

His Almighty Promise.

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

(My reading of this poem is on Pod-omatic at the bottom of this page.)

Winged Inspiration

Photos taken in my garden

Winged Inspiration

Today,

a bee flies wistfully,

nectar gathering for the hive,

Today,

a butterfly shares the space

of time and floral beauty,

collecting heavenly nourishment.

Today,

the lavender grows more alluring

in service

to its insect guests.

Today, 

the hummingbird sips  

sweet nectar from the loving, giving 

Rose of Sharon blossom. 

And as my eyes are permitted to view

this treasured scene

of serenity and industry,

I am compelled

to make a difference

for Tomorrow.

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

To hear me recite this, please click HERE.

Strength Within

Since transformation is part of my blog's title, I composed this villanelle, containing the poetic framework creating a linguistic form of life's ebb and flow. This poem's theme is that a loving, driving, force that emanates from the Divine, can bring a transforming strength, and I hope you enjoy it. 

Photo is of East Lake, Danbury, CT

Strength Within

Draw from Love that brings your verve its aim,

for gently comes the mission that will bring

the strength within that only you can name.

Your passion resonates hope; now proclaim

the song that desires your voice, and boldly sing.

Draw from Love that brings your verve its aim!

Intricacy builds clarity as the frame 

of delicately interlaced might, healing

the strength within that only you can name.

 

Travail with challenge evolves, as the game

of motivating resolve becomes your freeing.

Draw from Love that brings your verve its aim.

Benevolence and wonder: Adventure’s name

and yours when life moves on by loving

the strength within that only you can name.

Acknowledge from your heart that you can't tame

the Sacred Grace from unleashing torment’s cling.

Draw from Love that brings your verve its aim,

the strength within that only you can name.

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

To hear me recite this villanelle, please click HERE. 

The Mill

Long ago, a friend told me about this beautiful mill, located in Floyd County, Virginia. I found a picture of it in a history book and saw the serene beauty of this sight, so I took out my oil paints and painted my own version of the mill: Mabry Mill is its name. Below are two photos. One is a photo from Google Images. The other is my painting of the lovely Mabry Mill in Floyd County, Virginia. The poem revolves around this stalwart mill.

The 'melodious Lark' in the poem refers to Ralph Vaughn Williams' masterpiece, The Lark Ascending. You can hear the lovely melody if you click HERE. 

Photo of Mabry Mill, Virginia

 from Google Images

 

My painting of Mabry Mill, Virginia

                                             

The Mill

Quietly and peaceful

 The Mill does stand

In harmony with God's land,

and in its tranquil solitude

the melodious Lark 

sings its sweet etude. 

All the while, 

the Mill in steady repose sings: 

"I'll be here

as long as the wind does carry

His song through the realms of time. 

I'll be here for you ~ 

My love will ne'er weary

for your spirit 

inspires

my Joy. 

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

(To hear my reading of this poem on Pod-omatic, click HERE.)

Mercy Otis Warren, Muse of the American Revolution, 1776

Painting of Mercy Otis Warren

Mercy Otis Warren, given the title by some historians of Muse of the American Revolution, is often neglected in the U.S. historical memory. However, her motivation for contributing numerous literary works on the subject of independence demonstrates virtues found in the common individual while pointing out the discrepancies in a non-representational government. In her 1773 play, The Adulateur, Warren describes the issue of individual rights through the speech of her main character, Brutus:

 

The change how drear! The sullen ghost of bondage

Stalks full in view—already with her pinions,

She shades the affrighted land—the insulting soldiers

Tread down our choicest rights; while hoodwinked justice

Drops her scales, and totters from her basis.

Thus torn with nameless wounds, my bleeding country

Demands a tear – that tear I’ll freely give her. [1]

Using the rebellious poetic format of blank verse, Warren creates an image of the capture of justice, illustrating the conception that human beings might be inherently good, but their thirst for power could cause a diminishing of spiritual truth, thus leading to contrived allegiances to governments and other forms of false leadership. 

 

We thank such brave intelligent writers as Mercy Otis Warren for their insights regarding historical perspectives of justice. 

---

[1] Mercy Otis Warren, The Adulateur, Act I, Scene I, Boston: New Printing Office, 1773.

Frontal Acumen

photo taken by me in Danbury, Connecticut, U.S.A.

In a recent year, we had an extraordinary weather pattern here in Connecticut. As a front rapidly moved through the area, the skies filled with color, then torrential downpours, then sun and warm temperatures. Then, we were back in the freezing zone with snow predicted. As Mark Twain commented once, "if you don't like the weather in New England, just wait a few minutes." Okay, that's the weather report. What does this all mean philosophically?  

Human consciousness continually evolves, and as we move through our daily activities, nuances affect us in ways that sometimes we don't even realize until other events bring these subtle revelations into focus, providing clarity and introspection.

Frontal Acumen

Such grandeur surges

in a moment of wonder: 

guiding, hoping, gusting, 

winds envelop 

swirling reality 

shaking dreams loose,  

sparking an idea 

with Authority. 

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

The Shy One

The poem below deals with a childhood hurdle that eventually led me to grow in confidence: the family tag of 'the shy one.' 

a photo of pensive me, 2009

The Shy One

“Jeanne is the shy one,”

explained Mom 

when she introduced 

my siblings and me

to someone new

we happened to meet.

My tag was sewn,

identified and neat.

But I really wasn’t terribly shy

as indicated by Mother.

I simply loved to scrutinize

and exercise prudence

in dealing with others.

A curse back then.

But now I understand;

my pensive ‘flaws’

were precious gifts

of a Higher command.

Indeed, this shy one

has ardently grown,

for my interactions

delicately honed,

pensive and discreet,

have led me to complete

some pretty marvelous feats.

Thank you, Lord. 

Thanks Mom and Dad... 

May the Perpetual Light shine upon you.

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

Imre Madach's "The Tragedy of Man," Revolution and Knowledge

Photo: Illustration from website: http://www.wga.hu/html/z/zichy/index.html 

In The Tragedy of Man (1860), Hungarian playwright, Imre Madach, reveals the inherent spirit within humanity to resolve differences through knowledge. This play, consisting of fifteen scenes, depicts the first couple, Adam and Eve, in paradise whereby Eve questions the validity of the Lord’s request to deprive the couple of all knowledge. In her exchange with Lucifer in Scene II, she philosophizes:

Why should he punish? For if he hath fixed

The way that he would have us follow, so

He hath ordained it, that no sinful lure

Should draw us otherwhere; why hath he set

The path athwart a giddy yawning gulf

To doom us to destruction? If, likewise,

Sin hath a place in the eternal plan,

As storm amid the days of sunlit warmth,

Who would the angry storm more guilty deem

Than the life-giving brightness of the sun? (Scene II)

After leaving the garden of Eden for tasting of the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge, Adam and Eve fall asleep in their new home and experience a number of historical events to become aware of the many ways humanity has grown into self knowledge, beginning in Egypt, where the couple learns of personal glory. Adam then longs to learn of humanity’s struggle for the good of nation, through experiences in ancient Athens, Greece. They discover hedonism in ancient Rome, Christianity in the form of knighthood of the middle ages, where he also discovers medieval fanaticism. This leads to his search for sense in the sphere of Johannes Kepler. However, in the world of Emperor Rudolph, Adam moves on to the French Revolution, where he encounters the deceit of Danton and the ultimate failure in humankind’s ability to execute a lasting revolution. He becomes disenchanted with humanity at the London Fair. In the final scene, Eve tells Adam of the upcoming birth of their second child. She foreshadows:

If God so will, a second shall be born

In sorrow, who shall wash them both away

And bring upon this wide world, brotherhood.

Well, we all know what happened with that relationship, so Imre Madach, who places the burden of man’s struggle at the hands of the woman, also illustrates that humanity has within its grasp the ability to seize control over its destiny as the heavenly choir of angels sings:

…Yet in the glory of thy road,

Let not the thought thee blind

That what thou dost in praise of God

Is wrought of human mind.

Think not the Lord hath need of thee

His purpose to fulfill,

And thou receivest from Him grace,

If thou mayest work His will.

The Lord responds: O Man, strive on, strive on, have faith; and trust! (Scene XV)

Therefore, Imre Madach reveals, through the artistry of his writing, his intense belief that within its own consciousness, humanity has the ability to advance harmonic relevance from dissonant experience, for he presents Eve as the mother of humanity with the conviction that her children will move humanity forward in their quest for true knowledge. (Lakatos 2007)