My sense is you are getting at the question of presence…first in space but less obviously in time. Yet the question of freezing time in your poem has more irony and pathos than you are currently expressing, I feel. You can stop your body in space but not in time, and that is the source of all sorrow and loss, e.g. Buddhism. Your delightful, whimsical poem has a capacity to break our hearts more. The window is weeping, after all.
“True reflection presents me to myself not as idle and inaccessible subjectivity, but as identical with my presence in the world and to others, as I am now realizing it: I am all that I see, I am an intersubjective field, not despite my body and historical situation, but, on the contrary, by being this body and this situation, and though them, all the rest.”
― Maurice Merleau-Ponty, Phenomenology of Perception
Last edited by Tony Barnstone; 04-14-2024 at 12:38 PM.
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