[James Brancheau]

Revision

Particles and Waves

We thought it close, tall as a wish—
that the blessing of its arm could stir us
up and out, the lighthouse’s flashing
hand our nearest star, our own splay
of fingers squeezing rock and sand.

But our vessel of prayers was breached
that night, and when day broke open,
the bodied waves, the rising and falling
of our hope, among the most buoyant
of all debris, laid out for God the nature of light.





Particles and Waves

We thought it close, tall as a wish,
wide as a flash of light—its hand
and longest arm to pull us up and
out, a lighthouse’s reach our own
splay of fingers squeezing rock and sand.

Our vessel of prayers was breached
that night, and when the day broke
open with bodies, the rise and fall
of hope, among the most buoyant of
all debris, laid out for God the nature of light.

[James Brancheau]

I’m most worried about the science, which is not exactly my thing. I’m thinking that it's almost certainly wrong… Any thoughts on that, or anything else, will of course be greatly appreciated.

[Trevor Conway]

Hi James,

The science aspect isn't fully clear to me, so I can't really comment on its accuracy. I found the second stanza more interesting/engaging. Some nice ideas and language there.

Trev

[David Callin]

Hi James. The title suggests that we're into quantum physics here, but that's about as much of quantum physics as I know. And then we get God too. And the sea. (I really like the marine imagery.) Noah, even?

The last line suggests the reimagining of the Creation - "Let there be light" - in quantum terms, but that hardly seems consistent with the rest of the poem. To me, at least.

So I'm paddling frantically but staying afloat. Is there a rocket on your boat?

Cheers

David

[Hilary Biehl]

I like this a lot, though I don't know if I'm grasping it yet.

Scientifically (and I am not a scientist so can't say if it's "wrong" or not) I take it to be referencing the nature of light as both particle and wave, the double-slit experiment etc.

Obviously though there is more going on. I'm picturing perhaps a wrecked boat, the people who were in the boat clawing at the sand with splayed fingers. They had thought the lighthouse (lighthouse) was closer than it was, but the lighthouse let them down and now they're drowning amid the wreckage. Maybe God, too, let them down, not hearing or answering their prayers. Everything has let them down. But hope is still buoyant ... rising and falling like a wave of water or of light.

The line break in "and when the day broke / open with bodies" is brilliant. I love, too, the way hope is described as "debris."

I'm not sure about the title. It makes the science reference clear enough, but what is it doing for the poem? I guess I'm still struggling with how the science ties into the rest of the poem.

[Alex Pepple]

Hello, James,

I appreciate the evocative spareness of "Particles and Waves." The scientific title creates an interesting framework, though as others have noted, the connection between the title and content merits further development. Perhaps, consider how the current title's duality (the particle-wave duality in physics) could be more deliberately echoed in the poem's imagery of hope and catastrophe.

The lighthouse metaphor in the first stanza effectively establishes both beacon and rescue imagery. However, the phrase "its hand / and longest arm" creates some confusion—is this the lighthouse's beam metaphorically reaching out, or something else entirely? The connection between hand, arm, and lighthouse could be clarified while maintaining your evocative brevity.

In the second stanza, the line "among the most buoyant of / all debris, laid out for God the nature of light" contains powerful concepts but its syntax obscures meaning. Is hope the buoyant debris? Is the debris revealing something about light's nature? The phrase "laid out for God" is particularly ambiguous—it could suggest offering evidence to God, displaying something for divine inspection, or even teaching God something (which seems unlikely to be your intention).

What works beautifully is the progression from "vessel of prayers" being "breached" to the "rise and fall / of hope" mirroring wave motion. This creates a subtle interplay between physical and metaphysical that honors your title's scientific allusion.

Consider clarifying these key points while preserving the poem's admirable concision and haunting quality. The brevity serves the piece well—it's just a matter of ensuring precision within that economy of language.

Looking forward to seeing where you take this.

Cheers,
…Alex

[Matt Q]

Hi James,

I like it. It's evocative. I don't really see the poem making any specific scientific claims, so I didn't think anything was off in that respect.

I'm not quite clear what the opening's "we thought it close" refers to. Is "it", light, or something else? An answer? The resolution of a fundamental question? God, or knowledge of God?

I find this hard to parse, so don't really understand it:

a lighthouse’s reach our own
splay of fingers squeezing rock and sand

Are you missing a comma or other punctuation? Is there elision (a lighthouse's reach [that was] our own splay ...)? A comma is often used to indicate elision, though could be problematic here given the other punctuation. Or is there a missing "to"? "a lighthouse's reach to our own splay ...."? Or maybe I'm just not seeing something obvious.

of hope, among the most buoyant of
all debris, laid out for God the nature of light.

I wonder about the line-break here. "of" seems rather a weak word to accentuate, especially at the poem's close. You could break on "all", which would construct a superlative, "the most buoyant of all", for the next line to undercut/deflate. Or on "buoyant", I guess, though that would give rather a long last line.

best,

Matt

[James Brancheau]

Thank you Trevor, David, Hilary, Alex, and Matt. Since there was a fair amount of confusion regarding the original, I’ll hold off on responding individually. But I'll come back for that. Your responses were extremely helpful, and hopefully the above revision makes the poem at least a little clearer.

[Alex Pepple]

Hello, James,

This revision significantly strengthens the poem, particularly in how you've clarified the lighthouse imagery. The connection between particles/waves and the maritime disaster is now more coherent, with the physical and metaphysical dimensions working in parallel.

A few thoughts on fine-tuning:

• "that the blessing of its arm could stir us / up and out" – While "stir" suggests movement, it feels somewhat imprecise for the rescue imagery you're establishing. Consider whether a more directional verb might better convey the lighthouse's potential to guide or save (perhaps "pull," "draw," or "guide").
       
• "the lighthouse's flashing / hand our nearest star" – This metaphorical linkage between lighthouse, hand, and star creates a rich constellation of images. However, the relationship between these elements might benefit from slightly clearer syntax to help the reader follow the connection. For instance, without a verb connecting "hand" and "star," the reader must supply the relationship.
       
• In "our own splay / of fingers squeezing rock and sand," the word "own" does create a contrast with the lighthouse's metaphorical hand, so I see its purpose, though you might consider whether this contrast really needs emphasis.
       
• The final line, "laid out for God the nature of light," remains somewhat ambiguous in its syntax. Is it suggesting that the debris/hope reveals light's nature to God, or that God is revealing light's nature through the debris? This ambiguity might be intentional, but if not, a slight adjustment could clarify your intended meaning without diminishing the line's impact.

The emotional progression from hope to catastrophe is now more effectively rendered, and the revision maintains your admirably spare approach while offering greater clarity. The "bodied waves" and "rising and falling / of our hope" create good resonance with your title.

Looking forward to seeing where you take this next, James!

Cheers,
Alex