Archive for the 'creative practice' Category

The End Stopped Line

amywink January 21st, 2019

The End Stopped Line

Listening to Mary Oliver
talk of writing “Wild Geese”
which she says
was an exercise
in the end stopped line,
the kind of poem that
ends each line with
punctuation made to
give the reader pause,
a statement of some kind
in itself, even as the poem
continues beyond that line,
even beyond its end,
resounding in each reader

And suddenly I am writing
and thinking of the end stop
of her life, the statement that
ends and continues the poem
of her life beyond
the punctuated ending
into the poem that I am writing.

And I think of the lines
we say to end our inquiry,
to stay our curiosity,
so we do not go beyond
what we already know,
down some rabbit hole
because we prefer certainty,
afraid of knowing what
we do not know.
“This did not happen.”
“That was unheard of.”
“How do we even know
what’s true?”

until the poem continues,
in someone else’s voice,
“Here is what also happened.”
“Here is what was untold.”

Here is how we discover the
deeper truth.

Burning Bush

amywink January 19th, 2019

Burning Bush

Sometimes the story
arrives and will not
go away, appearing
and appearing,
asking to be told,
nudging into your life
slowly working into you,
becoming your story
with the story.
You see it everywhere.
You carry it always.

But it’s not my story,
we might say,
trying to give it back,
thinking of our imperfections,
of reasons why others
would be upset,
thinking of who has had
the right to speak and
who has been prevented
from speaking.

And yet
the story keeps asking,
tell this, tell this,
as if the story has arrived
precisely for you to tell,
as if the story had chosen
because the story needs
the first telling that
only you will give
so as to trigger
the retelling that must
always begin somewhere,
with someone
who understands
the risks of telling,
understands more
the risks of silence,
who says, even reluctantly,
I will tell this.
Let this begin with me.

Threshold

amywink January 18th, 2019

Threshold

How do you trust
and take the step
through the threshold
into something new
and unforeseen,
even unimagined,
yet suddenly an
opening before you?

How do you dare
to trust the way
even though the end
is not yet clear,
dare to trust
that the way
is enough,
dare to trust
the signs that
lead you forward
were the way to
this threshold you
only need trust
to cross?

Tikkun Olam

amywink January 15th, 2019

Tikkun Olam

Where is the place
of injury, the unhealed
break in self
or friend,
or world?
Out of sight
obscured or
always present
fracturing
again and again,
only because
we dare not look
for fear of the
mending work
we must set to do,
with hands
with heart,
this slow work
to knit again
this world together,
healing bone
on which to
stronger
stand.

Edges

amywink January 13th, 2019

Edges

My fear of edges
began early, when I
three or four, lifted
by my father, moved
not by my own power
toward the high window
of the Washington
Monument to peer out
on the surrounding city
and that sensation of
being moved, without
a will to move, stirred
and overwhelmed me
so what I felt is what
I remember, what remains
with me, not what I could see.

Even now, at edges,
on stairs, balconies
rotundas, high windows,
I feel that movement rising,
if I am close, on the bring
of falling, as if someone else
is moving me and I have
not yet decided I am ready
to be so close to falling.

Even now, at edges
of decisions, directions,
life-turning changes,
or deepest feelings,
at the brink of a frightful risk
I stand,
even while I am
moving, afraid
of falling
until I decide,
instead, to trust,
to make this
dangerous and
daring leap.

- Next »