Ephemera

January 31, 1919, C. S. Lewis was elected secretary of the Marlets Society, a select literary group at Oxford.

“If I am forgotten of all else, at least a specimen of my handwriting will be preserved for posterity.” C. S. Lewis’s comment upon his new office, based on his belief that the Martlets Society minutes were permanent University property.

For C.R.  -  Becky Wooley

“Define love,” she said,

knowing he couldn’t.
And he didn’t, though he tried,
not even to his own satisfaction.
If he admitted that MAN,
a super-evoluted animal,
another product of infinity and fortune,
could feel
anything more than reactions to chemicals released haphazardly
in his brain and body,
he must admit to a love
undefined, unevolved, primordial. NEVER.
But he knew he felt something more.

Define hope,” she said,
knowing he couldn’t.
And he didn’t, though he tried,
not even to his own satisfaction.
If he admitted that MAN,
a speck in the cosmos,
another organism destined for extinction,
could want
anything more than mentions
in equally ephemeral historical records,
he must admit to a hope
beyond death, beyond time, beyond history. NEVER.
But he knew he wanted something more.

“Define faith,” she said,
knowing he wouldn’t.
And he didn’t even try,
not even for her satisfaction.
If he admitted that MAN,
a self-sufficient child of the universe,
another deity in charge of destiny,
could need
anything more than reflections of his own image
to light the way,
he must admit to a faith in something,
somewhere, someone other. NEVER.
But he knew he needed . . .

[This poem was published in a slightly different form in the 1981 edition of “Pickwicker,” the literary journal of Abilene Christian University.]