I can't sleep…
I think about time differently since I got to be this old.
I think of each moment as a big La-Z-Boy,
or perhaps a hammock,
and the only direction is a little back and forth,
or side to side.
For this I need peace and quiet,
and I eschew all outside stimulation.
Perhaps this is why the future escapes me.
~ Abigail Thomas, What Comes Next and How to Like It: A Memoir
Photo: Jo Lynn Zamudio via Outdoor Magic
Michael Goldman wrote in a poem,
“When the Muse comes
She doesn’t tell you to write; /
She says get up for a minute,
I’ve something to show you,
stand here.”
What made me look up at that roadside tree?
~ Annie Dillard, The Present, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek
Image: AMCH-Photography
Lord of having
Hell at hand
Lord of losing
what I have
this heaven now
may I move
in time
like a cloud
in sky
my torn form
the wind’s one sign
may my suffering be
speechless
clarity
as of water
in some reach
of rock
it would take
work
to ascend
and see
and may my hands
my eyes
the very nub
of my tongue
be scrubbed
out of this hour
if I should utter
the dirty word
eternity
~ Christian Wiman, Lord of Having. Every Riven Thing: Poems.
Photo: Sydneyrw
~ Robert Creeley, Pieces in The Collected Poems of Robert Creeley, 1945-1975, Volume 1
Source: invisiblestories.