Poetry Analysis: Matins 2 from Louise Glück's The Wild Iris
Poem #3: Matins (Unreachable Father)
The second Matins poem continues right after the first Matins (The Sun Shines), seemingly written in succession, and yet seems so different from the poet’s earlier focus on the dark side of nature and our minds.
This poem really broadens the scope of the collection since it directly addresses God the creator, as the speaker initiates a futile yet meaningful dialogue with Him.
My initial notes while reading this poem:
Largely optimistic.
Speaks of compassion and the surprise of transaction. Of lessons being learned.
This post is part of a full series exploring The Wild Iris. Browse all poem analyses here →
Poem Analysis
Note for students and close readers:
This blog post shares highlights from my line-by-line analysis — not the entire poem. If you’re looking for a full breakdown, literary devices and deeper commentary, I’ve created a $1 PDF study guide you can download below. It’s a compact, annotated version designed to help with exams, essays, and revision.
Unreachable father, when we were first
exiled from heaven, you made
The poem starts with the speaker directly addressing God as “father”. We get religious connotations in the phrase “when we were first exiled from heaven”, as the poet alludes to the biblical expulsion of humanity from the garden of Eden. It’s important to note that the speaker’s tone as she says “Unreachable father” is not angry — instead, it contains a quiet acceptance of being estranged from God. At the same time, we can see that this estrangement is considered a loss, establishing with surety that any connection to the creator has been severed to the speaker and to others, both emotionally and spiritually.
In Genesis, the exile from heaven was not only depicted as a physical exile for humanity, but also a symbolic one connoting an enduring distance between creator and creation. So here, Glück uses both the words “father” and “unreachable”, capturing the ache that humans feel within this context — the ache of silence — capturing the speaker’s spiritual yearning as both a personal and also as an inherited yearning.
you made
a replica, a place in one sense
different from heaven, being
designed to teach a lesson: otherwise
Firstly, we get connotations of similarity and comfort in these lines as the speaker says, “you made a replica”, calling Earth a divine creation. Here, the term “replica” suggests we’re living in a world meant to echo heaven, while also specifying that it is not the same — signaling a loss of authenticity. Earth as a setting is familiar but insufficient, since it’s an imitation that gestures toward spiritual sufficiency while denying it. Glück’s speaker plays with this duality and the tone here is ironic — of feeling close to the creator, but enduring a huge distance. It also implies that this replication that we have right now is a hollow gesture, revealing the pain of the speaker, and taking us back to the previous Matins poem — where the speaker focuses on the hollowness of this world instead of focusing on its replicated light or beauty.
This portion also shifts the tone to a more ominous note through the phrase “designed to teach a lesson”, implying that the purpose of our time here on Earth is not one of joy but one of instruction — and this instruction is cloaked in suffering, either to be created by us or to be endured. This depicts Earth as a place of trial, and it also places divine silence as a part of this learning process. To top it off, the lesson is unclear, giving us a note of unease — what lesson? As Glück’s speaker thinks about all this, she’s not rejecting this curriculum created for her, but is quietly despairing. She thinks, what is the point of this lesson, and why is my teacher so unreachable as learn this lesson?
otherwise
the same—beauty on either side, beauty
without alternative— Except
we didn’t know what was the lesson. Left alone,
The speaker lingers on the sameness of Earth and heaven through dashes and enjambment in the lines, “otherwise / the same—beauty on either side, beauty / without alternative—”, intending to slow down the thought itself, almost hesitating as it ponders the word “beauty”. Glück also repeats the word, “beauty”, to acknowledge how Earth shares a beautiful, visual kinship to heaven, which should surely feel like a gift and yet seems more like a constraint. If the world is an exact copy of heaven, then what does it contain that heaven doesn’t have? Where, in its design is the space for growth, learning and escape?
This admission and pondering of beauty is then juxtaposed with the transition, “Except”, as the speaker admits a fatal ignorance—“we didn’t know what was the lesson”. Humanity inhabits a beautiful replica of heaven and yet no instructions accompany it. Glück implies how without guidance on how to end our imposed exile or how to re-establish contact with the creator, beauty itself becomes a trap—an exquisite surface masking an existential bewilderment. In this gap between the “Unreachable father’s” design for us and the limitations of our own understanding, Glück is exposing the human condition: surrounded by beauty, constrained by silence, and left to grapple or find meaning where none is given.
Themes
Matins (2) is a meditative stream of thoughts, and Louise Glück blends spiritual estrangement with questions about the truth — showing us the limitations of human understanding. The speaker is navigating a world resembling heaven but feels inherently incomplete, wrestling with the silence of a distant God and the uncertainty of what she must do in a world that seems constructed for suffering.
1. Abandonment
This poem is the first in the collection that highlights the powerful sense of distance between humanity and God. It accepts that contact has been lost, and refers to our earthly life as a continuation of our initial distance (our exile) from heaven - we have been disowned. This is a separation without closure, and implies not just physical distance from God but an absence of clarity, guidance and contact.
Glück describes Earth as an echo of heaven meant to teach humans a lesson, underscoring a spiritual confusion at the heart of the poem. The knowledge of abandonment is not a lament for paradise lost, but the absence of meaning in what has been given in its place. The creation of earth, which can be seen as a divine gift or consolation to us, is now seen as a site of trial, one in which the terms of existence are unclear and the presence of the creator inaccessible.
2. Appearance and Illusion
In a similar manner to the first Matins poem, Glück's speaker admits she is surrounded by beauty - Earth is beautiful, almost indistinguishable from heaven - and yet there is little comfort since she knows the likeness is misleading. Nature's elegance is a hollow distraction from it being a place of trial, punishment, confusion and suffering.
This tension between appearance and illusion reveals a deeper irony. The natural world appears whole, even divine, but functions as a place of estrangement and confusion. There is an illusion of order - a visual harmony that conceals spiritual absence. In this light, appearances do not clarify or soothe. Instead, they magnify the silence, deepening the speaker's uncertainty over the unknowable truths that lie just beyond human reach.
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Read the analysis of the previous poem: Matins 1 Analysis (The Sun Shines)