Random Observations

I gotta say, blogging opens one’s eyes to matters that tug on human heartstrings. I’m fascinated by those who pay me a visit via Internet searches for certain words or phrases. For the most part, I am heartened by what I’ve observed.

It’s a rainy day today, and I’m pheeling philosophical. Bear with me.
I thought I’d share a few thoughts born from visits and page views over the past year or so.

By far, my “Heart of the Matter” entry has been the most frequently visited of all, by people searching for either the music or lyrics.
I draw great comfort from that. It does my soul good to note that
so many people are drawn to the hearts at the heart of things.

I am genuinely surprised by the numbers of people who visit in search of T.R. Hummer’s poem: Where You Go When She Sleeps. They arrive at my post “A Paean to Poetry” on the basis of the poet’s name, a line or two, or a concatenation of words such as silo, golden, ‘boy who fell’ and related queries. I am genuinely surprised by this.
I own (literally) hundreds of poetry anthologies. This poem rarely appears. I thought I was introducing you, the Dear Reader, to an obscure work. I was delusional. It appears that Mr. Hummer has touched more hearts than I ever dreamt possible. I am most pleased. Most pleased.

Those of you who come to visit day after day, month after month, year after year, know that I offer very little sexual content. The mystery is part of the magic, no? Even so, I did post an entry entitled “The Taste of a Woman.” Well, wouldn’t you know, visitors come daily to view that particular atypical post. Searchers flock from the world over...but mostly from the Middle East and Africa...from Muslim states. I find that curiously sad. Sad that so many search for words to learn of matters so basic to the human soul.

I’ve been rather surprised by the sheer number of individuals who come to read about “That Watershed Moment.” Many are students sitting at university computers (no doubt trying to glean/plagiarize an answer to a question posed in a Philosophy class or some such).
Of far greater interest and import is the fact that a few individuals visit this specific entry time and time and time again. My heart reaches out to them.

Mary Oliver gets more than her fair share of attention. I thought I was a discriminating (dare I say ‘sophisticated’?) “peddler of poetry.” Turns out that a great many yearn for her words. I blush in the face of my own arrogance (trust me...it wouldn’t be the first time).

What caught me by surprise were the queries about Naomi Shihab Nye’s poem: Where Children Live. Again, I thought I had cited a relatively unknown poet/poem when I pondered life while lying on the floor. Silly me.

Then there are those of scientific bent who come in search of terms such as ontogeny and phylogeny (mostly from Korea and Southeast Asia). They come to read my musings. They never return.

And...finally...there are those who stumble into my tiny corner of the blogosphere (by sheer accident, I presume). Some come and visit for an hour or two...never to return. A few devote an entire night to read from beginning to end...never to return. Ships passing in the night,
I guess.

Ships passing in the night...

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