Brightly and darkly
Little by little
Lightly and sparkly
Some days I felt and urgent responsibility to each change of light outside the sunporch windows. Who would remember any of it, any of this our time, and the wind thrashing in the buckeye limbs outside? Somebody had to do it, somebody had to hang onto the days with teeth and fists, or the whole show had been in vain. That it was impossible never entered my reckoning, For work, for a task, I had never heard that word. -Annie Dillard
If you came this way,
Taking any route, starting from anywhere,
At any time or at any season,
It would always be the same: you would have to put off
Sense and notion. You are not here to verify,
Instruct yourself, or inform curiosity
Or carry report. You are here to kneel
Where prayer has been valid. And prayer is more
Than an order of words, the conscious occupation
Of the praying mind, or the sound of the voice praying.
T. S. Elliot, Quartets IV.I
Diminish, cut away all the pretense, cut away, cut away, cut away. Write with a scalpel. Give me the probe. I've been taking notes about everyone anyways. Now I can actually ask the questions I've been wondering. This feels a lot more like carving than building. Cut away, cut away, cut away.
I could interview the blind man who rides Ripta. Ask him about his dog, Abby.
I could stop a familiar stranger on Westminster Circle and begin to test my speculations.
And they can read me beneath the gossip in the Arcade.
Write found-poems from overheard-dialog onto the back of my hand.
Life, etched into my skin.
Don't speak too soon amidst the agony of creation... but I am going to learn everything, and I'm going to tell you.
"Beauty is truth, truth beauty, — that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know."