Keeping Things Whole

Keeping Things Whole

Mark Strand

In a field

I am the absence

of field.

This is

always the case.

Wherever I am

I am what is missing.

When I walk

I part the air

and always

the air moves in

to fill the spaces

where my body’s been.

We all have reasons

for moving.

I move

to keep things whole.

I’ve never really been good at finding hidden meanings in poems, I always come up with an idea opposite of what the author is trying to convey. I’ll give it a go, though...

I actually had someone read this poem to me so I could just pay attention to how it felt, and then I saw the words on paper. When I heard it, I felt close to nature, as if humans are a part of it, that we have a place here just as much as any other creature who dwells on earth. It made me feel okay with myself for a moment, as so often I feel so guilty for being such a consumer and not giving much back to my home.

I can relate to what he talked about with displacing the air in which he moves through. I have thought about that same thing as I have walked or moved from one place to another. I think about how air is a mass and how it can’t be created or destroyed, simply moved around. But with more and more people on earth, where does it move to – is it possible for air to become more dense, particles and atoms moved closer together? Are we unknowingly creating heat simply by being born and growing, as we push more molecules together?

We each are taking up a place air used to inhabit. It might sound silly. I know, in my mind, that air is a unique type of mass, that it probably doesn’t mind being moved around and shifted; that it probably doesn’t suffer directly from new people coming in to take its place. But there are some parallels in this idea to what we suffer today on our planet: pollution, overcrowding of cities, wildlife habitat loss, etc. All this moving and taking up space damages our earth. The poet writes “In a field I am the absence of field. This is always the case. Where ever I am I am what is missing.” When we move onto a spot of ground, we cover it. We are the substitute for what was there. Sometimes the ground can easily be recovered, as when we walk through a field and the footprint leaves only slightly trampled grass. Other times we leave lasting scars, as when we pour asphalt over the field and park hundreds of cars on it.

I have a feeling that this poem was meant to be more of a healing poem than where I have lead my discussion of it. For some reason, guilt always creeps back in- I can not just be content with being human; I can not feel deserving of the place I take up on earth without first confessing the sins of my species. For a moment I felt peace, just in listening to the words the author put down on paper. In quiet contemplation, I felt a contentedness about an issue which usually creates uneasiness in me. But the feeling can not stay. As soon as my mind begins to work around and through this poem, analyzing it and what it means, I become pained again because of what we have done to our planet. I wonder if I will ever feel that where I stand makes a place whole?

The pictures included in this post were taken from my camera phone as I flew over Mexico on my way to Puerto Vallarta. Most of the land I flew over was beautiful rugged mountain terrain with tiny villages sprinkled here and there- hardly any impact was made on the land in these areas. However, I thought the contrast in land use was striking when the plane neared Puerto Vallarta, a popular American and European tourist destination.