Most people don’t know, but I’ve been writing poetry since high school.
I’ve never been prolific with my poems; I’m not a poem-a-day sort of person (perhaps because I’m an introvert), and I’ve certainly had some dry years along the way.
In response to a few requests (actually very few), I’m considering posting some of my poems.
In a later post I may share some of the poems that bubbled up in Jake’s courses at Writers and Books, including a course he taught on Dante’s Inferno called “Writing Your Way Through Hell.”
But here is my latest poem, written in response to a time of guided meditation at the end of the Faith and Work conference in NYC I just attended. I scribbled most of it down on the spot, then edited it later.
Drilling down beneath the root cellar of my soul,
I caught a glint of some deep glow,
pulsing and rising
up through the dark.
As it approached I turned to flee, but
luscious with love,
wrinkled hands enfolded despair,
soothing the dried-up grief
of barren days and nights of pain.
The beam refracted,
sparking into ruby and sapphire,
emerald and diamond,
bursting through the termite-infested floor,
to crack a granite heart
and melt the stalactite stratagems
of endless limestone sorrow.
As you can see, the conference affected me at a deep, existential level.
Depending on interest, I’ll consider posting more of my poetry sometime.