A lot has changed lately, and I haven’t updated. I wish I had more time to write it all down, but maybe tonight…or not.
I do have a few minutes to post something though, and it’s honestly perfect that this was my entry last year:
I am not a poet.
I love to write, I love to read, and I love the art that comes from beautifully written paragraphs. But I am not a poet. Until six years ago, I didn’t even like poetry, and then I discovered Cummings (capitalized only for the purpose of this entry) and the rest is history. It was through him that that I learned what true poetry was all about, and I even have his words tattooed on me as a reminder.
Awhile ago, I found another brilliant light. Rainer Maria Rilke.
A quick Wikipedia search could tell anyone (right away) why I love him so much, but it goes deeper. More meaningful now that I am older. He writes:
“Everything is blooming most recklessly; if it were voices instead of colors, there would be an unbelievable shrieking into the heart of the night.”
How could I not fall in love?
My personal favorite, and perhaps one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever learned (personally):
“I hold this to be the highest task for a bond between two people: that each protects the solitude of the other.”
I cannot express how honest and true that is, and what it does to read that and understand.
I am not a poet, but damn, I can sure get it.
With everything swirling around me these days, I’m glad I can still count on this.