| Wednesday, January 09, 2008 |
| A butterfly speaks. |
Poetry, like glass shards at an accident scene litters my life, both literally and figuratively. I can flip through any textbook I own from college and find bits and fragments of poems scattered in the margins and under the cover and across the title page. They are always written at odd angles and in pieces. Ends before beginnings and middles after the ends. One line bits, titles, ideas and thoughts that were thrown out by a scribbling of wasted of ink. A coward’s attempt to deny the thought even existed in the first place.
My notebook at work carries halves and wholes of poems and quotes in between arrest notes, stolen bicycle information and license plate numbers. Even toilet paper, napkins and old receipts fail to escape my written word. In the academy, there would be phrases scrawled on my thigh while in the restroom.
Over the last years’ slow spiral into darkness, words have all but disappeared from currently used items. Nary a thou, this, or thine to be had. All blogs, notebooks and normal avenues of verbal purging began to feel neglected.
My life is now a 7 car pile up and, as is inevitable for a trash collector such as me, the glass shards are once again everywhere. In the last two days I’ve been able to accomplish nothing without punctuating it by a scribbling pen against some obliging surface. It was awkward to begin with but once the floodgate of shattering opened the words just kept coming until I was once again writing or typing when I should be sleeping.
But that is just the literal. Poetry used to be everywhere in my life: The gentle snow outside during a particularly stressful exam; a random ladybug crawling on my notebook on a bad day; the strong stiff breeze that seemed to cry with you; the causes to smile when anyone wouldn’t.
A long silence…
A long pause…
Nothing.
I felt trapped.
Then it began again, just the other day, with a very wise butterfly. It was like it knew that my spirit was dying slowly of suffocation and that the world failed to notice. In the midst of facing ultimate financial tragedy, my body falling apart, and imminent heartbreak: He saw his chance.
He landed on the brim of my sunhat and, in that particular way that only butterflies have, slowly folded and unfolded his wings as if he had all the time in the world to flap his butterscotch colored handsomeness and stare at me. I could almost hear him saying: “Why so fast, why so fretful, why so worried? It really is this simple.” Flap. . . Flap. . . Flap. . .
It was like a river held back too long breaking free. Later that afternoon, I found myself staring at this perfect yellow rose. Just one, alone in the slanting sunshine. I watched, standing perfectly still in someone else’s yard, for way too long, feeling way too blessed. It began again like that. The poetry littered again like it had never left. And peace returned despite the fact that I have no reason for peace but for the reality that I’m sitting in God’s hand, quite safe, with him blowing air gently against my cheek to remind me so.
There was a bush that blew in the breeze under the sun just so; someone’s heartbeat under my ear as I fell asleep; a painting in Barrington; A whole afternoon of spilling words out of my spleen onto anything my pen could catch; my cat’s wet nose waking me up; watching the strangest cloud formation pass above a car moon roof; a poignant silence; an unexpected smile; an unlikely friend… |
posted by ~KL~ @ 4:51 PM  |
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| About Me |
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Name: ~KL~
Home: Ipswich, MA, United States
About Me: 1 Corinthians 1:26 - 2:5 "Brothers, think of what you were when you were called. Not many of you were wise by human standards; not many were influential; not many were of noble birth. But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. He chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things - and the things that are not - to nullify the things that are, so that no one may boast before him. It is because of him that you are in Christ Jesus, who has become for us wisdom from God - that is, our righteousness, holiness, and redemption. Therefore, as it is written: "Let him who boasts boast in the Lord." When I came to you, brothers, I did not come with eleoquence or superior wisdom as I proclaimed to you the testimony about God. For I resolved to know nothing while I was with you except Jesus Christ and him crucified. I came to you in weakness and fear, and with much trembling. My message and my preaching were not with wise and persuasive owrds, but with a demonstration of the Spirit's power, so that your faith might not rest on men's wisdom, but on God's power."
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"To know and to serve God, of course, is why we're here, a clear truth, that, like the nose on your face, is near at hand and easily discernible but can make you dizzy if you try to focus on it hard. But a little faith will see you through. What else will do except faith in such a cynical, corrupt time? When the country goes temporarily to the dogs, cats must learn to be circumspect, walk on fences, sleep in trees, and have faith that all this woofing is not the last word. What is the last word, then? Gentleness is everywhere in daily life, a sign that faith rules through ordinary things: through cooking and small talk, through storytelling, making love, fishing, tending animals and sweet corn and flowers, through sports, music and books, raising kids - all the places where the gravy soaks in and grace shines through." -Garrison Keillor |
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