craft: part i

i’ve been tucking myself away in my room and writing more lately- trying to practice the discipline associated with engaging in the craft itself. a slew of poems have been pouring out, amidst my small space of a room, in which i take pains to bring about the right atmosphere- a burning roman frankincense candle scenting the air, perhaps sade playing in the background and me, turning on the lamp with a coral lampshade which casts its warm, rosy hue throughout the room.

In these moments of dim warmth, I am releasing words on the page that feel utterly close to something like an intimacy between good friends or kindred spirits. But some of it feels too private to share with my writing circle. Mainly because that entails people, even those loved and dear, scrutinizing cherished insights, delicious thoughts, as if they were butterfly specimen on a lab table. Cold and scientific. I suppose it is one of the catch-22’s in life: wanting to understand, but wanting some wonder and mystery to remain. The balance is quite elusive sometimes, even as a portal slightly obscured by sand. Perhaps at times, the way we go about poking and prodding God as if He is one who may be fully known and yet who truly can know the mind of God?

And this week, even my chiropractor admonished me that I should get a move on with it and start trying to seek to get my book published (not that of poetry, but a memoir of conversations and concepts). As he stood over me, about to adjust my neck, he reminded me of the important thing that is risk and the even more important thing that is “the early bird getting the worm.” And so I’m thinking on it again. Wondering when life will tarry just a second for me to work out a game plan. But perhaps I will have to wait until I go overseas when I might be able to immerse myself in writing. Not sure.