just pay attention
a poem can write itself in a moment –
a snapshot written in the soul –
a worded,
or wordless,
recognition of beauty,
the endless evolution
and creation,
which surrounds our steps
and walks with us
as we dance through our lives.
A few examples:
the way a weeping cherry tree delicately drapes pink branches
against the blue sky.
the way a jagged cut tree stump
covers itself with luxurious moss
and pours out green English ivy all over the ground around it.
the way the tires of a bulldozer
make such interesting patterns in the sand
on the way to the salt water.
the way dandelions keep on
cheerfully spreading wishes
and polka dot sunshine
no matter how many times they get labeled weeds.
the way the smell of an orange
colors your hands,
long after the fruit is consumed.
the way a great conversation,
of kith and kin,
on any ol’ friends bench,
can take you miles and miles
around the moon
and back again
changing the course of your day,
sometimes,
even your life.
yes, poems are born
in the senses.
no need for pen or paper,
poems are created
while paying attention,
in the heart of
our ordinary,
extraordinary,
living of life.
🍊
AL
We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for. To quote from Whitman, “O me! O life!… of the questions of these recurring; of the endless trains of the faithless… of cities filled with the foolish; what good amid these, O me, O life?” Answer. That you are here – that life exists, and identity; that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. That the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. What will your verse be?
📖
– Robin Williams in Dead Poets Society