The Poets Voice: August 2014
My husband and I just returned from a visit to West Texas.
I am grateful for Mary Oliver’s ‘wild and precious’ world. Yes, it exists in Texas. Our days were wind-dizzy; road side cactus prevalent. Flat land with hill country lay in the distance. I expected cowboys to whoop down the highway. (I did see some whooping cowboys, but not on the interstate.) Yes, we drove. Yes, we got off the interstate and took the Natchez Trace in Mississippi. It was slow going.
Slow is the operative word. Mary Oliver would never see foxes, fawns, or otters from the interstate. I admit, I complained at our snail pace. My husband’s middle name should be Patience. (It is Oscar, instead.)
Before I began this column, I flipped through John Fox’s book, Finding What You Didn’t Lose: Expressing Your Truth and Creativity Through Poem-Making. One chapter is titled, ‘Eternity In An Hour’. I began to wonder, is gratitude secular or sacred? The first poem in the chapter is e. e. cummings’s poem which begins, “i thank You God for most this amazing/day”. Then there is a selection from Kahlil Gibran, which begins, “I say yes and ever yes.” That’s gratitude for you!
William Blake wrote, “Everything that lives is holy;” Rilke, “To praise is the whole thing!” I could go on. You could add to a growing list of thanksgivings by writers. Is gratitude sacred or secular? Yes.
Get out your poetry toolbox. Take a walk and look for the right rock, leaf, feather, or twig. Carry it home. Hold it in awe. Listen for the voice of your object. Yesterday, walking on the lycopodium trail in Bent Creek, I found half of a white eggshell. It fit my thumb like skull cap. I listened. It wouldn’t talk to me. What would an empty eggshell say? I’ll take it with me to Minnesota. There will be time to listen.
I will sit by a North Woods lake, listen for the loon’s cry, hope I’m not late for Lady Slipper blooms, and that the dock hasn’t floated away. I will bring my heavy wool sweater. The Polar Vortex is acting up. I will sit still in a canoe. I will walk the forest path. I will visit Itasca State Park where the Mississippi emerges.
Our job as writers is to practice, every day, how to pay attention. I’ve said it before; I’ll repeat myself. Stop. Look. Listen. In his first poem in A Timbered Choir, Wendell Berry writes:
I go among trees and sit still.
All my stirring becomes quiet
around me like circles on water.
I’ll let Ludwig van Beethoven have a word.
Think of Me Kindly
by Ludwig van Beethoven
Surrounded by nature’s beauty,
often I sit for hours
while my senses feast
upon the spectacles of nature.
Here the majestic sun is not concealed
. . . . here the blue sky
is my sublime roof.
When in the evening
I contemplate the sky in wonder
and the host of luminous bodies
continually revolving within their orbits,
suns or earths by name,
then my spirit rises
beyond these constellations
so many millions of miles away.
From Think of Me Kindly: Thoughts on friendship, nature, love and creativity from the letters of Ludwig van Beethoven, edited by Susan Polis Schutz.
On Friday, August 1, at 7 p.m. at Calvary Episcopal Church, I will play cello, read poems, and be part of a confluence of nature photography by Ruthie Rosauer. We call our collaboration, Poemscapes. Admission to this event is one jar of peanut butter for Calvary’s Food Pantry. Ruthie’s cards with photos from around the world (including Monet’s house) will be for sale, as well as framed collages of my poetry and her nature photography. Y’all come. It’s my birthday!
Poemscapes, reading and photographic collaboration with music, Friday, August 1, 2014 at 7 p.m. at Calvary Episcopal, 2840 Hendersonville Road. Check out our website: Poemscapes.wordpress.com
Rapid River Magazine’s 2014 Poetry Contest Winners –>