For now, we’ll start with a story about a little girl lost. She found herself wandering into the jungle, alone and afraid, with her family worrying about her and not knowing exactly how to find or save her. The poem is called, “Little Girl Lost” by William Blake – maybe you’ve heard of him? Thankfully, this is merely part one. Stay tuned for part two.
There are so many ways to interpret all the various symbols in this poem and we are mostly left to our own devices in that regard. I find myself hidden among the stanzas just as Lyca was hidden from her mother and father. And while I sat in that place where I was disoriented, off-course, and misaligned, I wondered if I’d ever get back to a place of safety and peace. Do I trust the lion? Do I run? But where should I go in the middle of a world that seemed like it had me trapped like a bird in a cage?
Was there a way out, a way around, or would I find a way to be content with my situation and surroundings? In my heart, I knew there were people out there who cared for me and would help guide me to the next right step but which direction should I walk when it all seemed like such a maze? TBD….
The Little Girl Lost, William Blake
In futurity I prophesy That the earth from sleep (Grave the sentence deep) Shall arise, and seek For her Maker meek; And the desert wild Become a garden mild. In the southern clime, Where the summer's prime Never fades away, Lovely Lyca lay. Seven summers old Lovely Lyca told. She had wandered long, Hearing wild birds' song. 'Sweet sleep, come to me, Underneath this tree; Do father, mother, weep? Where can Lyca sleep? 'Lost in desert wild Is your little child. How can Lyca sleep If her mother weep? 'If her heart does ache, Then let Lyca wake; If my mother sleep, Lyca shall not weep. 'Frowning, frowning night, O'er this desert bright Let thy moon arise, While I close my eyes.' Sleeping Lyca lay, While the beasts of prey, Come from caverns deep, Viewed the maid asleep. The kingly lion stood, And the virgin viewed: Then he gambolled round O'er the hallowed ground. Leopards, tigers, play Round her as she lay; While the lion old Bowed his mane of gold, And her bosom lick, And upon her neck, From his eyes of flame, Ruby tears there came; While the lioness Loosed her slender dress, And naked they conveyed To caves the sleeping maid.