Wild Nights by Emily Dickinson

W When one knows something about Emily Dickinson you could easily blush at this poem. Passion and longing stated so boldly seem out of place with a shy poet who hardly ever left her house right? Wrong! On one personality test I took once I was told I was identical to Emily Dickinson so clearly I know what I am talking about. We shy people may not shout about our thoughts and feelings but we do stew and brood over them and like soup, the longer it cooks the stronger they get. 

We know Emily never married but we do have access to some of her old letters so we know she corresponded for sever years with one man. Who can tell what was really going on in her head or heart. Her poems are a small window into her thoughts so that enplanes why they change back and forth so much. In one she is bemoaning the fate of married women then she is sighing over wild nights.
Lets take a look at the whole thing its a short one.

Wild nights - Wild nights!

Were I with thee

Wild nights should be

Our luxury!

Futile - the winds -

To a Heart in port -

Done with the Compass -

Done with the Chart!

Rowing in Eden -

Ah - the Sea!

Might I but moor - tonight -

In thee! 

 

Oh what eloquence it just makes me so happy. That is one of the wonderful freeing things about poetry and music you can feel free to express your feelings as they come to you without worrying about how they would be taken when spoken. 'Rowing in Eden' a safe paradise, no more need for charts or compasses she has found her port at last. She is home. But only on the paper. In her room. At night when no one can possibly see or hear her shocking thoughts.