[INFJ] Infjs, do you relate with what this poem describes?

[carrot142]

This poem by Sylvia plath aligns very closely to my experience of introverted intuition and when I first read this poem I was in both shock and awe, usually it takes a bit of time to fully understand a poem but this one aligned with my experience so well I practically knew it before I read it. I would love to hear if other infjs and maybe intjs also relate to this poem.

Black Rook In Rainy Weather​

On the stiff twig up there
Hunches a wet black rook
Arranging and rearranging its feathers in the rain-
I do not expect a miracle
Or an accident

To set the sight on fire
In my eye, nor seek
Any more in the desultory weather some design,
But let spotted leaves fall as they fall
Without ceremony, or portent.

Although, I admit, I desire,
Occasionally, some backtalk
From the mute sky, I can't honestly complain:
A certain minor light may still
Lean incandescent

Out of kitchen table or chair
As if a celestial burning took
Possession of the most obtuse objects now and then —
Thus hallowing an interval
Otherwise inconsequent

By bestowing largesse, honor
One might say love. At any rate, I now walk
Wary (for it could happen
Even in this dull, ruinous landscape); sceptical
Yet politic, ignorant

Of whatever angel any choose to flare
Suddenly at my elbow. I only know that a rook
Ordering its black feathers can so shine
As to seize my senses, haul
My eyelids up, and grant

A brief respite from fear
Of total neutrality. With luck,
Trekking stubborn through this season
Of fatigue, I shall
Patch together a content

Of sorts. Miracles occur.
If you care to call those spasmodic
Tricks of radiance
Miracles. The wait's begun again,
The long wait for the angel,

For that rare, random descent.

 

[TomasM]

You'll have to forgive me for not having the time to unpack the meaning of this poem and using A.I. to do an interpretation (provided below).

After reading the interpretation, my response to your question, "do you relate with what this poem describes," has to be no. As an INFJ idealist and someone who has both great faith and awareness of spirituality through my religious connection [to something larger than myself], I find potential, opportunity, hope, and greatness, where anything is possible. This is not to say that I have always felt this way, because there were many years I felt the bleakness of what is described in this poem. I suspect INFJ's like many other types have oscillated between these feeling throughout their life, and that oscillation is somewhat determined by their own choice and the circumstance of the environment in which they walk a path through life's journey. For me, it requires finding a commitment to something more or greater in the face of a life filled with pain. The pain challenges the commitment and in overcoming that pain through the commitment I continually see miracle and awe, things I can't explain, and both opportunity and temptation laid at me feet. Ultimately this lead to pause because the complexity of changing the grand requires a mind that must consider the whole of everyone before myself. This is where the temptation of sin is greatest and I often find myself being unfulfilled, yet I persist and give thanks for the opportunity to choose and grow from within.

----
Below is the A.I. interpretation:

- The conclusion / summary is at the bottom.

Sylvia Plath’s poem “Black Rook in Rainy Weather” is a meditation on the longing for meaning, transcendence, and beauty in an otherwise bleak and mundane world. It explores the tension between skepticism and hope, the ordinary and the divine.

Here’s a breakdown of the poem’s meaning and themes:

---

1. The Setting of Emptiness and Waiting​

The speaker begins by describing a bleak, rainy landscape with a black rook (a type of crow-like bird) perched on a branch. This image is dull, gray, and lifeless—there’s no expectation of beauty or divine intervention:

"I do not expect a miracle / Or an accident / To set the sight on fire..."

The speaker has resigned herself to life without supernatural signs, where leaves fall “without ceremony.” There's a tone of spiritual weariness or disillusionment—no grand vision, no epiphany from the heavens.

---

2. Yearning for Meaning Amid the Mundane​

Despite this resignation, the speaker admits she does occasionally long for a sign—some "backtalk from the mute sky." This desire for divine contact or inspiration persists, even if she guards herself against it.

Then, a shift occurs:

"A certain minor light may still / Lean incandescent / Out of kitchen table or chair..."

Suddenly, everyday objects—chairs, tables—become temporarily transformed by some mysterious light. These are fleeting moments when the ordinary world seems imbued with significance or grace.

---

3. Epiphany in the Ordinary​

These instances of unexpected beauty don’t come with fanfare. They are:

"Spasmodic / Tricks of radiance"

Yet, they bestow “largesse, honor,” and even something akin to love—a sacredness in the mundane. The poet suggests that miracles do occur, not as dramatic revelations, but as momentary illuminations of everyday life.

---

4. A Struggle Between Faith and Doubt​

There’s a cautious hope here, not rooted in traditional religion but in the possibility of being startled by beauty:

"I now walk / Wary... skeptical / Yet politic..."

The speaker isn't naive. She knows such moments are rare and unpredictable. Still, she remains open—"ignorant / Of whatever angel any choose to flare / Suddenly at my elbow."

This angel is not necessarily religious—it symbolizes inspiration, wonder, or emotional transcendence.

---

5. The Black Rook as a Symbol​

The rook, like the world around it, is unremarkable—wet, dark, and ordinary. Yet in its feather-arranging, it shines—it becomes a vessel for unexpected grace. It “hauls / My eyelids up,” giving the speaker “a brief respite from fear / Of total neutrality.”

That fear—the dread that life is flat, empty, and meaningless—is temporarily lifted by this accidental beauty. The rook represents how the smallest, bleakest thing can unexpectedly reveal significance.

---

6. Final Thoughts: A Hopeful Despair​

The poem ends with reluctant hope:

"The wait's begun again, / The long wait for the angel, / For that rare, random descent."

Plath recognizes how rare such moments are. She doesn't expect them, but she waits for them nonetheless. It’s a kind of spiritual survival—not based on dogma or certainty, but on openness to grace even in its most erratic forms.

---

Conclusion​

“Black Rook in Rainy Weather” captures Sylvia Plath’s complex relationship with faith, beauty, and despair. It’s about:

• living without assurance, yet still desiring transcendence.
• Finding grace not in miracles, but in the accidental shimmer of the everyday.
• Resisting the “total neutrality” of life by clinging to those rare “tricks of radiance.”

It’s a poem of existential fatigue, softened by the smallest flicker of hope.

 

[Rift Zone]

The poem lost me. ...or didn't sink in or something. Not uncommon, unfortunately, i usually struggle with relating to poetry.

I was able to relate to the AI assessment. Thanks for that, @TomasM
I'm in much in the same boat, but I have a tendency to find magic in the universe fairly often. Critters at play, a mother being tender with her infant, celestial circumstances scattered across the cosmos, even novel situations that arise in daily life. I feel for the author. That being rare seem tragic.

 

[carrot142]

This poem by Sylvia plath aligns very closely to my experience of introverted intuition and when I first read this poem I was in both shock and awe, usually it takes a bit of time to fully understand a poem but this one aligned with my experience so well I practically knew it before I read it. I would love to hear if other infjs and maybe intjs also relate to this poem.

Black Rook In Rainy Weather​

On the stiff twig up there
Hunches a wet black rook
Arranging and rearranging its feathers in the rain-
I do not expect a miracle
Or an accident

To set the sight on fire
In my eye, nor seek
Any more in the desultory weather some design,
But let spotted leaves fall as they fall
Without ceremony, or portent.

Although, I admit, I desire,
Occasionally, some backtalk
From the mute sky, I can't honestly complain:
A certain minor light may still
Lean incandescent

Out of kitchen table or chair
As if a celestial burning took
Possession of the most obtuse objects now and then —
Thus hallowing an interval
Otherwise inconsequent

By bestowing largesse, honor
One might say love. At any rate, I now walk
Wary (for it could happen
Even in this dull, ruinous landscape); sceptical
Yet politic, ignorant

Of whatever angel any choose to flare
Suddenly at my elbow. I only know that a rook
Ordering its black feathers can so shine
As to seize my senses, haul
My eyelids up, and grant

A brief respite from fear
Of total neutrality. With luck,
Trekking stubborn through this season
Of fatigue, I shall
Patch together a content

Of sorts. Miracles occur.
If you care to call those spasmodic
Tricks of radiance
Miracles. The wait's begun again,
The long wait for the angel,

For that rare, random descent.

You'll have to forgive me for not having the time to unpack the meaning of this poem and using A.I. to do an interpretation (provided below).

After reading the interpretation, my response to your question, "do you relate with what this poem describes," has to be no. As an INFJ idealist and someone who has both great faith and awareness of spirituality through my religious connection [to something larger than myself], I find potential, opportunity, hope, and greatness, where anything is possible. This is not to say that I have always felt this way, because there were many years I felt the bleakness of what is described in this poem. I suspect INFJ's like many other types have oscillated between these feeling throughout their life, and that oscillation is somewhat determined by their own choice and the circumstance of the environment in which they walk a path through life's journey. For me, it requires finding a commitment to something more or greater in the face of a life filled with pain. The pain challenges the commitment and in overcoming that pain through the commitment I continually see miracle and awe, things I can't explain, and both opportunity and temptation laid at me feet. Ultimately this lead to pause because the complexity of changing the grand requires a mind that must consider the whole of everyone before myself. This is where the temptation of sin is greatest and I often find myself being unfulfilled, yet I persist and give thanks for the opportunity to choose and grow from within.

----
Below is the A.I. interpretation:

- The conclusion / summary is at the bottom.

Sylvia Plath’s poem “Black Rook in Rainy Weather” is a meditation on the longing for meaning, transcendence, and beauty in an otherwise bleak and mundane world. It explores the tension between skepticism and hope, the ordinary and the divine.

Here’s a breakdown of the poem’s meaning and themes:

---

1. The Setting of Emptiness and Waiting​

The speaker begins by describing a bleak, rainy landscape with a black rook (a type of crow-like bird) perched on a branch. This image is dull, gray, and lifeless—there’s no expectation of beauty or divine intervention:



The speaker has resigned herself to life without supernatural signs, where leaves fall “without ceremony.” There's a tone of spiritual weariness or disillusionment—no grand vision, no epiphany from the heavens.

---

2. Yearning for Meaning Amid the Mundane​

Despite this resignation, the speaker admits she does occasionally long for a sign—some "backtalk from the mute sky." This desire for divine contact or inspiration persists, even if she guards herself against it.

Then, a shift occurs:



Suddenly, everyday objects—chairs, tables—become temporarily transformed by some mysterious light. These are fleeting moments when the ordinary world seems imbued with significance or grace.

---

3. Epiphany in the Ordinary​

These instances of unexpected beauty don’t come with fanfare. They are:



Yet, they bestow “largesse, honor,” and even something akin to love—a sacredness in the mundane. The poet suggests that miracles do occur, not as dramatic revelations, but as momentary illuminations of everyday life.

---

4. A Struggle Between Faith and Doubt​

There’s a cautious hope here, not rooted in traditional religion but in the possibility of being startled by beauty:



The speaker isn't naive. She knows such moments are rare and unpredictable. Still, she remains open—"ignorant / Of whatever angel any choose to flare / Suddenly at my elbow."

This angel is not necessarily religious—it symbolizes inspiration, wonder, or emotional transcendence.

---

5. The Black Rook as a Symbol​

The rook, like the world around it, is unremarkable—wet, dark, and ordinary. Yet in its feather-arranging, it shines—it becomes a vessel for unexpected grace. It “hauls / My eyelids up,” giving the speaker “a brief respite from fear / Of total neutrality.”

That fear—the dread that life is flat, empty, and meaningless—is temporarily lifted by this accidental beauty. The rook represents how the smallest, bleakest thing can unexpectedly reveal significance.

---

6. Final Thoughts: A Hopeful Despair​

The poem ends with reluctant hope:



Plath recognizes how rare such moments are. She doesn't expect them, but she waits for them nonetheless. It’s a kind of spiritual survival—not based on dogma or certainty, but on openness to grace even in its most erratic forms.

---

Conclusion​

“Black Rook in Rainy Weather” captures Sylvia Plath’s complex relationship with faith, beauty, and despair. It’s about:

• living without assurance, yet still desiring transcendence.
• Finding grace not in miracles, but in the accidental shimmer of the everyday.
• Resisting the “total neutrality” of life by clinging to those rare “tricks of radiance.”

It’s a poem of existential fatigue, softened by the smallest flicker of hope.

Thanks for offering your perspective, maybe I should have shared mine earlier. The key psychological feature I relate to is the longing for rare, meaningful moments where something Suddenly becomes something more and represents a greater idea or concept(what the poet describes when she saw the black rook ), something similar can happen but in a more conceptual way when studying things like poverty or science related things.When they’re absent, everything else feels a little dull like being hungry for something you can’t name. One analogy I like to give is to imagine a conscientious person that is not doing anything productive for long periods of time, they feel this sort of angst, but with this version there is no way to fix it the nature of these visions is that they come and go as they please you can't force them and this poem is plath describing how she comes to terms with that.
Personality I haven't felt any major droughts for a while now but I have gone a few months at a time before.

 

[Wyote]

Kind of a hilarious nod to The Raven.
I don't think Plath reconciled the difficulties of intimately understanding divine creativity and the mundane bullshit of life.