A Toast (to Walt Whitman)

A Toast (to Walt Whitman)
By Zachary Williams, November 1999

It has often been a wish passing thru this temporary head
that the writer of great poems, the singer of thoughts and observations
The describer of a rich country, since 150 years now passed was still present
Often have I wish for his return:
for words of wisdom in this withering age,
when tired bones creak loader than joyful calls.
Often have I read the words prostrate before me,
appealing to me, calling me!
And asked aloud why it is that this brilliance must be a thing of the past
But ho! Is it not this reflection upon words that was originally desired?
This idea forms, that we are but what we are and where.
That there is no place or time any more suited to the here and now.
That poets of old had their time and told what they were able
Only to give way to the poets of new,
subsequent generations of observers and lovers
All that I see I take in; and all that I hear I take in;
all that I touch, taste, smell, I take in;
all that I imagine I spew forth.
Translated senses fall like leaves in new England as autumns inevitable touch paints that landscape and passes; each thought meta-morphed and colored a new perspective.
All the places I've ever visited, the people I touch, I love all of it.
Where ever I go, it is truly the best place I have ever been.
For even areas revisited cannot be the same
under scrutiny of new eyes and thoughts.
All grows in wonder as knowledge accrues in this temporal information well.
All reflects upon itself, shining back with the brilliance of a thousand suns.
Indeed with the brilliance of the additive sun of each day I have awakened and looked up at the sky!
It is Me! I shout and clap and jump. I am here and I see it all.
I observe laughing all that surrounds me,
all that sense that penetrates my perception.
I call all of it to bend to my wishes and thoughts
and never question the common-thought absurdity of looking outside myself.
There is so much to do, so much to see, so many to meet,
That following the crowd cannot possibly please, cannot subdue this feeling of wanderlust
Yes! Do what they say and die happy; push the limits and you will live forever!
Poems transferred, songs transcending the greatest barrier: time
And never will it be diminished, never fade and recede to being and nothingness.
Even were it to be that my words remain only here transcribed.
Even then would these wondrous thoughts have escaped
the silent confines of the burning mind.
But it is not to be so, that they remain here,
for my eagerness to share and expel these thoughts exceeds all else.
Ah! to encourage others with words;
to call to all people with inquisitive concern!
I translate the world around into the joy I feel
and touch in the expanse, the vast and infinite expanse that is all...
I shout from above and call up from below,
approach from behind and walk up, smiling.
Let these words be heard and reflected upon that others will act alike and continue the tradition of lovers.
If look around, where ever I find myself, there is never a lack of minds
Never a lack of great lovers,
never a void in the greatness of potential appreciation.
To you studying, how do you find your book...in your words?
To you dreaming, why do you imagine you imagine such things?
To you conversing, would you not impart upon me
some unique wisdom to renew my perspective?
To you laughing, share with me you joys and too your sorrows,
that I may sooth and rejoice with you in life.
To you simply observing, do you see something that I do not?
Share these ideas, for each is as important as the next.
These multitudes of potential information fountains overwhelm my senses.
Write, talk, sing, dance, laugh, opine, discuss, imagine,
think aloud, dream alone, ask, repeat, converse!
Look around at the beauty of all and imagine the innumerable poems dancing through your mind!
Oh! Potentiality!
The promise of understanding!
To learn!
To Live!
A Toast!