Resemblance
Reading continues in the essays by Wallace Stevens. I just finished an essay on resemblance, how things resemble one another thus establishing a relationship, and how this is so in poetry. Stevens asserts that the job of poetry is to tell the truth about reality. That is a lofty estimation of poetry, much higher than others have thought. The resemblance between things in nature, plants, rocks, the sky, etc. and the resemblance between people; in a real sense you and I are every man or every woman. Resemblance is the engine of metaphor, which is the workhorse of poetry.
The insights of Steven’s words came to me while sitting by Lake Michigan. It was an ideal day for spending time in the sun by the water, enjoying a swim. Indeed the walk down to the lake had been 
quite pleasant. We followed the pathway which had been prepared along side of a deep swale, a gully formed by ground water draining into the lake from the surrounding forest bluff. We walked under a canopy of dark green trees, hearing around us a variety of musical bird calls. Wild flowers grew at intervals along our pathway. We descended to the narrow beach by the lake’s edge, holding onto the rail to be safe.
The lakefront was paradisical; a clear blue sky, reflected the darker blue surface of the lake. The surface of the lake had diminutive rolling swells, moving gently toward the lighter tan color of the shallow water at the edge. There was the constant motion of the small waves lapping onto the sandy bottom, incessantly moving the sand and pebbles into a finer and finer form. Nature is always moving, working, making things new.
With these two pictures it is easy to see the resemblance between the sky and the surface of lake Michigan. It is obvious that the yellow of the sun which illuminates everything that is seen in the vista of the lake, has a resemblance in the Black Eye Susans blooming by the steps leading down to the the lake.
Aristotle said that “one day does not a summer make” which can be appreciated from the photos taken from the same vantage point on the next 
day.
The sky is darkly mottled with clouds, almost as if generated by a big smoky fire. The lake surface heaves with lines of 
big swells which break off-shore as if I were looking at the Atlantic ocean. I do not doubt this is the same lake that was so pacific yesterday, a delight for swimming, safe even for small children. On this day an adult strong swimmer would be at risk to go for a swim.
Upon reflection and comparison of this day with the day before one can still see a hint of blue in the steel gray surface of the lake. The sun illuminates still with light filtered through the rain laden storm clouds. The light is reminiscent of the subdued illumination under the forest canopy which we passed yesterday.
There is a resemblance in degree, greater or lesser in everything. All is related. Reality is a vast, single fabric.
One thought on “Resemblance”
Your blog captured the mystery and draw of the great lake, Lake Michigan. There is good reason the it is called one of the Great Lakes. (Yoko Ono is on record as saying when John Lennon first saw Lake Michigan,he called it an ocean rather than a lake).
I have been going to southwest Michigan since I was two years old and Lake Michigan from the Michigan side has yet to not fascinate me every year with not only its power, but it’s never ending change in appearance each time I see it. Sometimes it looks like a small pond with its calm; sometimes, it’s just the big blue water (something it’s often called from the southwest Michigan side); sometimes, it’s raging; and sometimes it’s rage can take down a ship’s crew like it did to the Edmund Fitzgerald’s; sometimes, it’s just a big swimming pool; sometimes, it’s sandbar stretches and stretches out; sometimes it’s undertow in the same spot can take a person down; sometimes it’s green, blue, white, grey, or black; and, sometimes it truly looks like one is standing at the end of the where the earth ends; and on and on.
You mention poetry.
To me, Lake Michigan, especially from the Southwest Michigan side, is inspirational. And, sometimes John Masefield’s poem, Sea Fever, with its repetitive line of “I must go down to the seas again” seems like it has to be about Lake Michigan.