Sandra Fowler

Rookie (February,4,1937 / W. Columbia, WV, USA)

What Is Infinitesimal? - Poem by Sandra Fowler

Touch with me what is infinitesimal-
A single vagrant blue note of the dusk,
A leaf that has no home but windowglass,
A lonely whistle frozen into frost.

Such beauty closes eyes against all loss,
Makes requiem a picture without depth.
And yet it it sears the senses for all time,
Like one small whisper blows a world away,

Dedicated to the belief that nothing is too small to be measured.
Previously published, 'Skylark', Purdue University Calumet


Comments about What Is Infinitesimal? by Sandra Fowler

  • (5/24/2010 11:34:00 AM)

    Miniscule
    Mind blowing and bogging
    Let us unbolt in quest of such
    Imponderables ‘so near’..blind and deaf we’re so …’so far’…thanks Ma’am such contemplative poetry.
    10++
    Ms. Nivedita
    UK
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  • Sarwar Chowdhury (9/15/2009 12:26:00 PM)

    A remarkable piece dear sandra! great wording!
    10+
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  • (8/16/2009 11:43:00 PM)

    Sandra, In these few lines you have blended - religion, philosophy and the Lord's
    mysterious ways - into poetry! ! The Bible says that even the small blades of grass are numbered! And our Scientists today are working on a String Theory,
    which says that all things in this world are created- by the way these 'nano strings'
    vibrate! These strings are said to be thousands of time smaller than the smallest atom! The great Greek Philosopher Pythagoras, in mid 6th century BC, said that
    the entire cosmos vibrates with God's music! For your poem 10 ++++++
    -Raj Nandy
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  • C. P. Sharma (5/23/2009 3:21:00 AM)

    I have to say like Keats, an infinitesimal single note from you plays on

    Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear'd,
    Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone

    Ever your friend on PH
    CP
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  • (5/19/2009 8:19:00 AM)

    Each atom makes the universe...I loved this poem, Sandra. (Report)Reply

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  • (10/16/2008 10:25:00 AM)

    Sigh... this is so very YOU Sandra. I love how your poetry whispers like a gentle breeze, reaching the senses like no others. You are truly brilliant at your craft. With warm regards, HG: -) xx (Report)Reply

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  • (1/27/2008 2:37:00 AM)

    A graceful lyric with a kind of winter-like mood about it. It calls us to celebrate and contemplate the small elements from which larger realities spring and to enjoy the perspective that such contemplation brings. Beautifully composed. (Report)Reply

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  • (12/5/2007 4:54:00 PM)

    I have to work to connect the images, but that's O.K. (Report)Reply

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  • (11/3/2007 3:18:00 AM)

    Only the wise recognizes the presence and value of the insignificant. I've been blind, but now your poem made me see. (Report)Reply

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  • Melvina Germain (10/7/2007 8:36:00 AM)

    Beauty at it's best Sandra.
    Melvina
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  • (10/4/2007 3:25:00 PM)

    Yes, Sandra, there is immense power in the small things, and you capture this power in wonderful images as always. Warmest regards,
    Magda
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  • (10/4/2007 2:25:00 PM)

    This is a poem of immeasurable beauty! (Report)Reply

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  • Dr.subhendu Kar (10/3/2007 4:24:00 PM)

    A single vagrant blue note of the dusk,
    A leaf that has no home but windowglass,
    A lonely whistle frozen into frost..........................most powerful yet beautiful verse coursed through the dynamics of rare imagery and unique metaphores in the midst of potent emotions making the plexus more vibrant, wherefrom we begin the study of philosophy of nature and life, a great work i ever find, thanks
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  • (10/2/2007 2:03:00 PM)

    Exquisite Sandra, the beauty of your words, the images and the sentiment resound...Justine x (Report)Reply

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  • (10/2/2007 1:35:00 PM)

    the last line is powerful and one of my favorites of yours, it's always enjoyable reading your work.
    ben
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  • (9/29/2007 1:15:00 AM)

    Such small things make up a universe. The leaf upon the glass was particularly moving. From such infinitesimal objects is the web of Indra woven.

    They say that the soul is the smallest point of all - but from our common love, may all beings live in mutual reverence. 'As you have done to the least of these, you have done it unto me.' Loss and separation are illusion, perhaps, but food for beautiful poetry. These seem very real, to mortal souls. - Will
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  • (9/25/2007 12:58:00 PM)

    Ah the beauty of your frost and dusk. Susie xxx. (Report)Reply

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  • (9/24/2007 6:24:00 PM)

    Very beautiful and completely true. The two thousand years since Christ only lived 33 years is but a second in terms of existence but the eternal beauty goes on. As poets we try in our infinitesimal way to send love down through the ages and I'm certain your love will last for a long time in your heartfelt and wise poems,
    Uriah
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  • (9/24/2007 2:51:00 PM)

    A lonely magical whistle echoes forever! Not surprised as it's Sandra's. (Report)Reply

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  • (9/24/2007 9:00:00 AM)

    I love this poem. My understanding is that in Physics when you measure something you change it but this poem defies physics. Bill Grace (Report)Reply

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Poem Submitted: Sunday, September 23, 2007

Poem Edited: Monday, April 11, 2011


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