And at least in poetry you should feel free to lie. That is, not to lie, but to imagine what you want, to follow the direction of the poem.
Mark StrandRead
And what does it matter when light enters the room where a child sleeps and the waking mother, opening her eyes, wishes more than anything to be unwakened by what she cannot name?
Interpretation
What this quote means
The quote reflects on the complexities of awareness and the desire to remain in a state of unawareness, particularly in relation to a child's innocence.
Mark Strand's quote captures the poignant moment of a mother waking to the world while bearing the weight of unnameable worries and truths. The light entering the room symbolizes clarity and awareness, yet it also disrupts a serene state, representing the tension between the innocence of a sleeping child and the harsh realities that accompany adulthood. It emphasizes the deep emotional landscape of motherhood, where love and anxiety often coexist, highlighting the desire to protect a child's innocence from the troubles of the world.
Themes
MotherhoodInnocenceLightAwarenessAnxiety
In practice
Example use cases
In a speech about parenting, a speaker might use this quote to explore the emotional challenges mothers face.
More from Mark Strand
All quotes →...In another time, What cannot be seen will define us, and we shall be prompted To say that language is error, and all things are wronged By representation. The self, we shall say, can never be Seen with a disguise, and never be seen without one.
Mark StrandRead
Even this late it happens the coming of love, the coming of light. You wake and the candles are lit as if by themselves, stars gather, dreams pour into your pillows, sending up warm bouquets of air. Even this late the bones of the body shine and tomorrow’s dust flares into breath.
Mark StrandRead
No voice comes from outer space, from the folds of dust and carpets of wind to tell us that this is the way it was meant to happen, that if only we knew how long the ruins would last we would never complain.
Mark StrandRead
From the shadow of domes in the city of domes,_x000D_ A snowflake, a blizzard of one, weightless, entered your room_x000D_ And made its way to the arm of the chair where you, looking up_x000D_ From your book, saw it the moment it landed. That's all_x000D_ There was to it.
Mark StrandRead
There's a certain point, when you're writing autobiographical stuff, where you don't want to misrepresent yourself. It would be dishonest.
Mark StrandRead
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