8/29/11

Week 2: The Artist's Rule

Today I am pulling on a green wool sweater 
and walking across the park in a dusky snowfall. 

The trees stand like twenty-seven prophets in a field, 
each a station in a pilgrimage—silent, pondering. 

Blue flakes of light falling across their bodies 
are the ciphers of a secret, an occultation. 

I will examine their leaves as pages in a text 
and consider the bookish pigeons, students of winter. 

I will kneel on the track of a vanquished squirrel 
and stare into a blank pond for the figure of Sophia. 

I shall begin scouring the sky for signs 
as if my whole future were constellated upon it. 

I will walk home alone with the deep alone, 
a disciple of shadows, in praise of the mysteries. 

from The Artist's Rule, by Christine Valters Paintner:
One of my favorite poetry-writing prompts is to take the title of a poem I love and use it as the starting point for my own poem.  The Edward Hirsch poem above speaks to what it means to live as mystic, artist, and monk in the world.
I invite you this week to write a poem with two or three parts.  One part begins "I am going to start living like a monk," and the other part beings "I am going to start living like an artist."  You might want to add a third part that begins "I am going to start living like a mystic" (or whatever word you might be inspired to engage).
… [T]ake each beginning line as a prompt for writing, and free-write for several minutes on each topic.  Write without editing yourself; allow the words to flow onto the page.
… After writing about each topic for several minutes, spend some time crafting the words into a poem and notice what is revealed to you through the experience.

My poem:
Every moment is in and of itself.
It is not me.  It is part of me.
I am part of it.  You are part of it.
Don't rush me.  Don't rush through
the moment to get to somewhere else.
Hold onto my fingers with your fingers.
Look at God.


1 comment:

Peter said...

Blessed journeying, Di.