What a balm this is as we enter the bluster of the strongman. So much to think about here this morning. The threshold between before and after. Accumulated losses. The swift transition into the unthinkable. I consider the praise of fragility as a form resistance. The sand mandala, not the bronze statue. As a former teacher, I love how you identified the challenge of preparing students for an inhospitable world.
I thought of the poem, Little Things by Sharon Olds, this excerpt:
"So when I fix on this image of resin
or sweep together with the heel of my hand a
pile of my son’s sunburn peels like
insect wings, where I peeled his back the night before camp,
I am doing something I learned early to do, I am
paying attention to small beauties,
whatever I have–as if it were our duty to
find things to love, to bind ourselves to this world."
ah, thank you for this! It's funny -- I was reading Sharon Olds this week, and had thought about writing something about her work, as well! Thank you for this reminder of this poem of hers. She's wonderful.
I am on hold for a telephone conversation with a major utility conglomerate to remedy an error in their systems - and I took the opportunity to read your poem of the week which I thought might center me - it did calm me and open me up. This is wonderful, wonderful, (say it again) wonderful writing about living long enough to know that we may not save the world or even enjoy our last days in the world but we persist for the moments of beauty, poetry, and memories of connections. Thank you for these thoughts and your pursuit of poetry.
What a balm this is as we enter the bluster of the strongman. So much to think about here this morning. The threshold between before and after. Accumulated losses. The swift transition into the unthinkable. I consider the praise of fragility as a form resistance. The sand mandala, not the bronze statue. As a former teacher, I love how you identified the challenge of preparing students for an inhospitable world.
I thought of the poem, Little Things by Sharon Olds, this excerpt:
"So when I fix on this image of resin
or sweep together with the heel of my hand a
pile of my son’s sunburn peels like
insect wings, where I peeled his back the night before camp,
I am doing something I learned early to do, I am
paying attention to small beauties,
whatever I have–as if it were our duty to
find things to love, to bind ourselves to this world."
ah, thank you for this! It's funny -- I was reading Sharon Olds this week, and had thought about writing something about her work, as well! Thank you for this reminder of this poem of hers. She's wonderful.
I wish you would compile a year's worth of these into a book, a text, a guide, a helper. They're treasure, & treasured. Thank you!
maybe one day! appreciate you reading. thank you!
♥️
Absolutely stunning...the poetry and your refections on the poetry are always extraordinary
thanks so much -- appreciate you
This is absolutely beautiful, thank you so much x
thank you for reading!
“as strong as glass and as fragile” — wonderful as ever, Devin
I am on hold for a telephone conversation with a major utility conglomerate to remedy an error in their systems - and I took the opportunity to read your poem of the week which I thought might center me - it did calm me and open me up. This is wonderful, wonderful, (say it again) wonderful writing about living long enough to know that we may not save the world or even enjoy our last days in the world but we persist for the moments of beauty, poetry, and memories of connections. Thank you for these thoughts and your pursuit of poetry.