“The Matrix” is a thought-provoking and deeply symbolic poem by Amy Lowell. The poem is structured in three stanzas, each consisting of four lines. The first and second stanzas describe the creation of the world and its inhabitants, while the third stanza presents a more personal and reflective perspective.
In the first stanza, Lowell uses vivid imagery to describe the creation of the world: “Out of the darkness / A world forms and glows, / A globe of fire / Filling the empty skies.” The words “darkness” and “empty skies” suggest a sense of void and chaos, which is then filled by the “globe of fire.” This image symbolizes the Big Bang theory of the creation of the universe.
The second stanza describes the emergence of life on earth: “From the world’s matrix / Life forms and grows, / Plants with their blossoms, / Creatures, friends and foes.” The word “matrix” refers to the origin or source of something. In this case, it is the source of life on earth. The stanza emphasizes the diversity of life, from plants to animals, and the interdependence between them.
The third stanza shifts to a more personal and introspective tone. Lowell reflects on the purpose and meaning of existence: “What is the matrix / Of all things here below? / The round world spins / And none can answer, ‘No.'” The repetition of the word “matrix” throughout the poem emphasizes the idea that everything is interconnected and originates from a common source. However, the question of why things exist and what their purpose is remains unanswered.
Overall, “The Matrix” is a powerful meditation on the origins of the universe and life on earth, as well as the fundamental questions of existence. Lowell’s use of vivid imagery and symbolic language invites the reader to reflect on the nature of reality and their place in it.
The Matrix
That tears our life up into bits of days
Ticked off upon a clock which never stays,
Shredding our portion of Eternity,
We break away at last, and steal the key
Which hides a world empty of hours; ways
Of space unroll, and Heaven overlays
The leafy, sun-lit earth of Fantasy.
Beyond the ilex shadow glares the sun,
Scorching against the blue flame of the sky.
Brown lily-pads lie heavy and supine
Within a granite basin, under one
The bronze-gold glimmer of a carp; and I
Reach out my hand and pluck a nectarine.
