This is a superb piece. (I looked for you on poetry Twitter and am sad to see you too are now gone. Leaving makes sense, but I grieve the loss. I loved poetry Twitter.) Marie Howe's "What the Silence Says" speaks to the cacophony we living within. We are uncomfortable with silences. My Indigenous dad spoke slowly, with long silences. I loved those silences as much as his intelligent, unusual, thoughtful words. Presently, so much seems to be response without pause for thought that allows time for meaning, complexity, connection, compassion. You write about poetry in a manner that doesn't get in the way of its beauty. I'm exasperated by poetry commentary that overshadows the poem with descriptions of things such as 'enjambments' to the detriment of the beauty and mystery of how a reader is affected by word choice, line breaks, capitalization, complete or incomplete sentences. Thank you for providing me with a soft, white parachute to deliver me into a place of beauty. You have inspired me to write out and put on my bathroom mirror, Nicolas Malebranche's “attention is the natural prayer of the soul." Thank you for using the phrase, "absolutely bonkers in a beautiful way''.
Such power in the gentleness, in our smallness, and in embracing the unknowing. “I will forget how gentle it can be to say that I am small, to say that I exist within the great scope of something that is larger than I am, and not entirely mine — in fact, is hardly mine at all.” Thanks for sharing your living with us in this beautiful way, Devin.
Yes. Paying attention, slowing down, humility, awe, love for self. That last one is the hardest, as though we constantly need permission. Thank you for that, and for your incredible words this morning.
I keep thinking about these poems, and this essay, especially the part about the same wind touching our faces. I hope that you turn that into a poem, someday.
Marie Howe's book "What the Living Do" was my gateway into contemporary poetry many years ago. Love your commentary on her work.
Thanks for your thoughts Devin. 💛 I look forward to reading them when you share.
This is a superb piece. (I looked for you on poetry Twitter and am sad to see you too are now gone. Leaving makes sense, but I grieve the loss. I loved poetry Twitter.) Marie Howe's "What the Silence Says" speaks to the cacophony we living within. We are uncomfortable with silences. My Indigenous dad spoke slowly, with long silences. I loved those silences as much as his intelligent, unusual, thoughtful words. Presently, so much seems to be response without pause for thought that allows time for meaning, complexity, connection, compassion. You write about poetry in a manner that doesn't get in the way of its beauty. I'm exasperated by poetry commentary that overshadows the poem with descriptions of things such as 'enjambments' to the detriment of the beauty and mystery of how a reader is affected by word choice, line breaks, capitalization, complete or incomplete sentences. Thank you for providing me with a soft, white parachute to deliver me into a place of beauty. You have inspired me to write out and put on my bathroom mirror, Nicolas Malebranche's “attention is the natural prayer of the soul." Thank you for using the phrase, "absolutely bonkers in a beautiful way''.
Such power in the gentleness, in our smallness, and in embracing the unknowing. “I will forget how gentle it can be to say that I am small, to say that I exist within the great scope of something that is larger than I am, and not entirely mine — in fact, is hardly mine at all.” Thanks for sharing your living with us in this beautiful way, Devin.
Such a beautiful and moving essay. The same wind…yes!
Yes. Paying attention, slowing down, humility, awe, love for self. That last one is the hardest, as though we constantly need permission. Thank you for that, and for your incredible words this morning.
I keep thinking about these poems, and this essay, especially the part about the same wind touching our faces. I hope that you turn that into a poem, someday.
Your thoughts are beautiful, Devin. Thank you so much. You have a gift.