Bucket List #2

I mentioned a John Keats' poem in the previous post. Why? He's a famous British poet we all were forced to read in high school Senior English Class. Why dredge him up here?

The assignment of creating a Bucket List (scroll down to previous post) was inspired by a short poem by a gifted poet who lived a very short life.

John Keats cared for both his mother and his brother as they battled tuberculosis. Sadly, he watched them die from this dreadful disease. He suspected he, too, would eventually succumb to it. In time, he displayed the symptoms. He traveled to Italy to bake his lungs in the sun, hoping to beat the illness that took so many lives in that era. Sadly, he died there at the age of 26. Such a tragedy.

He had fallen in love with the girl next door, Fanny Brawne. In fact, they were engaged and he corresponded with her frequently up until he knew death was imminent. A tragic love story for sure.

His poem, When I Have Fears that I May Cease to Be, always touches my heart and that is the poem that triggered the Bucket List assignment for my students.

In this famous poem, he laments two things:

1. He would not live long enough to get all the creative ideas, all the words, all the poetry that was swimming around in his head down on paper. ("...Before my pen has glean'd my teeming brain...")
2. He especially was saddened he would not be able to enjoy a life-long marriage with the love of his life, Fanny.

How utterly sad. I can't relate to John Keats on item #2 since I've been blessed to enjoy a long-time marriage to the love of my youth. I do, however, relate to his feelings about not being able to express the dreams in his mind.

Time ran out for him. I, of course, don't compare myself to such a gifted writer, but I've been thinking of his poem lately. I have so many thoughts and ideas and storylines jumbled up in my brain. I know I won't live long enough to get them all out. It's a cluttered, busy brain--a jumbled mess!

To read John Keats' short poem, go to http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/173753

While on a trip to London, I rode the red double-decker bus nearly to the end of the line. I got off and walked through the neighborhood to John Keats' home, that is now a small museum. I was in awe of standing in his writing room, where he penned such lovely yet melancholy poems.

I don't know where John Keats stood on the subject of faith in God, but I do know his genius for writing moving poetry has lasted for centuries.

What about you? Is your brain filled with thoughts and dreams and plans that you fear will not come to fruition? You're in good company.

Maybe a cluttered, busy brain is a happy brain.