More on: poetry

Architects in the Bay Area talk about concepts and ideas. I talk about poetry. I look at a design project and ask, how can I make something emotionally meaningful?

The microcosmic richness of human identity is a reflection of the God who not only made us but sees us, knows us, and speaks to us. Our being addressed by the divine is an infinite well for human possibility.

For me, the restlessness leads to the next poem.

The hope is that by having attended to poets’ work wholeheartedly, we will come to see the world and those who move within it a little more clearly, so that we may love it, and one another, a little better and put that love into action.

Becoming involved in a poem, allowing the lines to unfold, not knowing if there’s going to be a surprise, a turn, or deepening—this is very similar to being with a patient or family as a chaplain when I don’t have all the answers. Part of my job is to sit with them in uncertainty. It’s a big white space.

I’m carrying into the cold / a bulging trash bag, big enough to hold / and hold and stretch and hold, like love itself, /
and outfitted with handy drawstrings.

Because nearing what one wants, / Our intellect is so overcome / That our memory is left behind.

It’s the taste of that first sip / of coffee, rich and strong, the Mr. Coffee cup warmer / on your desk. It’s having the right pen.

Good criticism also helps us see why some art doesn’t work, or works poorly, activating the worst in us. When criticism is judgmental in the sense of being censorious, that too is in the service of art and our experience. The critic is showing us why we need and deserve better.

a dream that repeated: to find the good / you must uproot the pain