I love how Herbert focuses the reader on certain moments within his poems. In both Easter Wings and The Altar, he draws our attention to the very center, and that's where the real action of the poem takes place, where real meaning is to be found. Whenever I read Easter Wings, I feel like I'm coming up from the bottom of a deep lake, and that moment right before I reach the surface is that moment of suffocating hopelessness that is captured so well at the center of each of the wings. And then you burst forth into the sunlight, and you feel your lungs fill with warm air. The darkness passes away and is forgotten, and you remember only the soft touch of the sunlight on your skin. This is perhaps an excessively dramatic take on the poem, but I really do appreciate his work a lot, both for its uniqueness (at the time at least) and its sincerity. Thanks for sharing your thoughts!