Richard Eberhart

The Eclipse
By Richard Eberhart

I stood out in the open cold
To see the essence of the eclipse
Which was its perfect darkness.

I stood in the cold on the porch
And could not think of anything so perfect
As man's hope of light in the face of darkness.


I did not know about Richard Eberhart before. He lived from April 5, 1904 to June 9, 2005. He had helped bring attention to the Beat Poets by writing about them in the New York Times in 1956. What drew me to this poem was the recent eclipse. It was an experience that I did not see directly since I was here in rain-bound Northern California but it was echoed on Twitter. The pictures were fantastic.

Years ago, I remember sitting in an apartment complex watching a partial eclipse and the slow trail of the Comet Hale-Bopp in another part of the sky. I think it was one of the most exciting cosmic event I ever saw. There were a bunch of us residents all sitting in beach chairs gazing up at the black sky and feeling amazed. I felt as if I was part of the human experience, a feeling of togetherness that I rarely feel, and it had to be something that was happening in space that induced that feeling in me. It was similar to what was happening when the pictures and information went out on Twitter except I was smug in my bed looking out at the rain but seeing the sun and moon on my computer screen.

I don't know about "man's hope of light in the face of darkness" for I felt the connection to humankind. I felt the proximity of standing shoulder to shoulder to people and all of us looking out from our small planet into the dark and cold universe at something that we had no control over. Many of us stopped running around, carrying our packages and children, and just looked out in one direction at the cosmic event in amazement. I wonder in wars if soldiers stop fighting and killing to look at it as well.

This last time it happened, it was on the day of Winter Solstice. The top of the planet was tilted away from the sun. I will not be around when it happens again, not in this life, not in this identity. Just think, it is summer in Australia. They are not standing in the cold. Well, I have gone too far with this poem. I wonder when this happens on the next Winter Solstice will there be a twitter and what form will it be? Or would Global Warming fried us all up by then?And on it goes....