Writing God's Poem
Becoming an Apprentice to Desire
Mornings here are mostly the same. I set the kettle to boil for a french press of coffee, top my mug with a swirl of cream, light a candle, and sit down at the desk.
But these days at the edge of the new season have felt a bit off. End of the school year responsibilities, a grown child studying halfway across the world, nights that empty out with insomnia—these haven’t kept me from the desk, but they’ve kept me from fully attending to the page.
And then a gift arrives. Something unlooked for, more than I could ask or imagine.
I woke to a new poem: words stitched together and shared with generosity.
Diary Poems hosted a new cento created by Ann Collins from Microseasons. The poem stretches over four stanzas and features the work of 25+ poets! What a feat!
Lines from the poem “When We Are Apart,” from my chapbook Every Broken Year, open the second stanza and close the third. But then a curious thing happened. As I read through the poem, many other lines felt like something I might have written!
wildness like a buzzing crown / of honeysuckle and clover
the wonder of every small and winged thing
And then there were lines I wished I could have written!
hurl your hope
the calm of small survivals
It made me think of the line from Anne Sexton. She said that we are all writing one poem, God’s poem. Ann has given my lines back to me in a fresh, inspiring, humbling context.
I’d love to slip a copy of Every Broken Year into the post for you. It’s small enough to tuck in a pocket as you head out or even to hide a few lines in your heart. Become desire’s apprentice this summer!
I love the thought of us all writing one poem.
Isn't it cool how we get to have these conversations that go immediately to a level where we truly see each other? What a wild and humbling thing. I still remember, Kortney, when I first received and read Every Broken Year. It opened a door for me to a world so vivid and real. I can still see Demeter's garden, the chess board, the roots and bits, the moon's shuttered eye. I was blown away by how your poetry made a world so real in just a few words. The wonder of it. I'm so glad you enjoyed the cento.