I saw this “Picture and a Poem” in T magazine on Sunday. It snuck up on me in the midst of the editorial spread and Fashion Week review. I read it…and then sat there for a moment, in shock or should I say in awe, as if I had eaten the sweetest piece of candy I’d never tasted before. But, how can that be? I used to read poetry all the time. I loved discecting it in school for the world of meaning that existed between the lines.
This poem lays it all out there, so it seems the verses exposed a sensitive spot in my world: a tender part of me I haven’t accessed in too long, a mirror I have been turning on myself since my birthday and unable to articulate what I saw there, and finally a sense that my daily life has lost its luster.
I suppose somewhere along the way I substituted music for poetry; it’s easier to consume day to day. Songs are poetic, even the cheesy pop melodies, but there is something about slowing it down, reading the lines with your own voice, your own tone, your own attitude, that changes the game. Or, that’s the way I feel. I used to write down songs so I could cherish the words and how they resonated in my heart.
With life pulling me in different directions, trying me at every turn these days, I find I have let the poetry slip away. I don’t have much more to say on that, or a sentiment for you to take away, just my thoughts on this one.
I am going to rediscover the verse that lays asleep beneath me. I know it’s there…cuddled up with my smile.Tweet this!