I first read this poem in 1995 when I had just returned to college after a hiatus from life. I dug out the class-required journal I had to write when we studied Whitman, and I’m shocked at how open I was with my professor. No way will I post the paper here for all the world to see. However, I will share this:
“I find it interesting that Whitman compares life to ‘A Noiseless Patient Spider.’ I have been anything but noiseless and patient in my efforts to find my place in life. I whine, I cry, I complain.”
How many people, when trying to figure out who or what they are are noiseless and patient? Perhaps we’d figure out things a little quicker if we were noiseless and patient more often…
