Augustine said that God created the universe new every day: and to the living, emotional soul, this is true.
Every dawn dawns upon an entirely new universe, every Easter lights up an entirely new glory of a new world opening in utterly new flower. And the soul of man and the soul of woman is new in the same way, with the infinite delight of life and the ever-newness of life.
So a man and a woman are new to one another throughout a life-time, in the rhythm of marriage that matches the rhythm of the year.
Oh what a catastrophe, what a maiming of love when it was made a personal, merely personal feeling, taken away from the rising and setting of the sun, and cut off from the magic connection of the solstice and equinox.
This is what is the matter with us.
We are bleeding at the roots, because we are cut off from the earth and sun and stars, and love is a grinning mockery, because, poor blossom, we plucked it from its stem on the tree of Life and expected it to keep on blooming in our civilized vase on the table…
Vitally, the human race is dying. It is like a great uprooted tree, with its roots in the air. We must plant ourselves again in the universe.
You can find this passage in Lawrence’s profound essay — A Propos of Lady Chatterley's Lover (1929)
In the main, humanity looks really fucked up to this 81-year-old mystic, poet and culture jammer, who wonders if there are any poets living today, whose verses might stand a chance of saving humanity from itself?
These words are such a healing balm after having. just read a bit of the "morning blather" regarding the current wars men are inflicting on our home, Planet Earth. The innocent among us are collateral damage, nothing more. Until those among us with a greater sense of empathy manage to wrest power from the blood lusting male "leaders" it appears indeed, that man is doomed. Thank you David for hope in these times. It is impossible to dress up all the horror with a day of thanksgiving nonetheless we put on the blinders like everyone else.