Friday Poems: The Arrow and The Song

Growing up, I attended eight different schools. Needless to say, I do not have any friends "since kindergarten." But now, at the ripe old age of 39, I am proud to say I have had a few select friends for more than half of my life. As an only child, with an estranged mother and deceased father, I treasure these old friends because they are now my only links to my past and my history on this earth. I love traditions and rituals as an adult for all of these reasons and more.

Today's poem is dedicated to old friends and everyone can feel free to hum this song all day too.

photo credit: Leo Reynolds

The Arrow and The Song
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I shot an arrow into the air,
It fell to earth, I knew not where;
For, so swiftly it flew, the sight
Could not follow in its flight.

I breathed a song into the air,
It fell to earth, I knew not where;
For who has sight so keen and strong,
That it can follow the flight of song?

Long, long afterward, in an oak
I found the arrow, still unbroke;
And the song, from beginning to end,
I found again in the heart of a friend.

Longfellow wrote: "October 16, 1845. Before church, wrote The Arrow and The Song, which came into my mind as I stood with my back to the fire, and glanced on to the paper with arrow's speed. Literally an improvisation."

Well blow me down with that kind of talent! People say they like my writing, but come on! I am like an infant in comparison.