The Poem Waits at Its Own Core
by John FoxOriginal Language English
The poem at its core
Is snow or egg,
The new moon or grass
In spring.
All these pause at the edge
Of change. There is a deep
Stillness you must pass through
To get close to what waits.
At this edge, you leave
Everything behind
Except what the poem needs:
Warmth, rain, silence,
Gravity --
Make it something you know
Only for the first time:
A river, heartbeat,
Cradle, field of play.
The place where all things
Begin again.
<<Previous Poem | More Poems by John Fox | Next Poem >>
/ Image by Nicolas Messifet /
I like the idea that animates this poem, that there is a sort of a poem within a poem, the real poem, so to speak, at the heart of the surface poem. And that inner poem, like "the new moon or grass in spring" is always on the edge of change.
To uncover that living part of the poem, we must cultivate stillness within ourselves--
There is a deep
Stillness you must pass through
To get close to what waits.
To get there we must let everything fall away, cling to nothing, arrive empty handed--
At this edge, you leave
Everything behind..."
And then we have that surprising line,
Except what the poem needs
What is it that the poem needs from us?
Warmth, rain, silence,
Gravity --
Then we are told to--
Make it something you know
Only for the first time
That's something not to rush past. I've thought a lot about this idea in various forms as it applies to awareness and the spiritual path. The awareness is most alive and receptive when encountering something utterly new and for the first time. As we get older, however, with more experiences under our belt, very little feels new to us. As a result, our perception of life can feel coated with a heave veneer. We can feel numb, experiences are no longer fresh, meaning feels flattened. The real issue is not whether or not the experience is new, but whether we approach with openness. It's not a question of always having new experiences, it is about cultivating still and receptive awareness.
A river, heartbeat,
Cradle, field of play.
It requires a sense of flow and centeredness and play.
Every experience, even one encountered daily, is unique and magical. Every experience is potentially a doorway into the unknown -- when approached honestly and without projection.
Even a poem. Perhaps especially a poem.
It too becomes--
The place where all things
Begin again.
===
John Fox is the founder of the Institute for Poetic Medicine and the author of several excellent books on the healing power of poetry, including Poetic Medicine and Finding What You Didn't Lose. Highly recommended reading!
Have a beautiful day!
 |
 |
 |
||
| Diamond Cutters: Visionary Poets in America, Britain & Oceania | Poetic Medicine: The Healing Art of Poem-Making | Finding What You Didn't Lose: Expressing Your Truth and Creativity Through Poem-Making | ||
