I curl the question mark of my body
into the silence around us. There is silence
inside of us, too, a pure silence that pools
and spills and overflows making it easier now to not know,
to not even guess what comes next,
and after years of wanting answers and trying
to make the world fit into an equation or an outline
or a calendar square or a rhyme scheme, I am
more easy now with falling into silence, with falling and
not even believing in wings, falling past
the hands reaching out to rescue me as if
falling is a terrible thing. But even falling
is a form of knowing, just a new metaphor,
a new word for path. And even a question mark
knows where it curves, where it is line, where it
breaks, where it becomes a point, one small point
amongst many small points. I am learning,
unlearning, to be less than that.
I think it’s both…less than that AND more than that 🙂 …
” falling and
not even believing in wings, falling past
the hands reaching out to rescue me as if
falling is a terrible thing”…oh! so profound!
Thanks dear Emily, I most certainly agree with your AND … I took it out of the last line and made it the title, but then I switched to or because really, what do we know? And. Or. Or. And. How we love our conjunctions … Thanks again for coming to class last Saturday, so wonderful to hear your poems, R
2nd try. The first one might be in your spam folder. Anyway, I think I said that question mark inhabits the poem so perfectly, at the beginning as trigger, as contrast to the other patterns in the middle, and again at the end as closing meditation. I like this line:
But even falling
is a form of knowing, just a new metaphor,
a new word for path
But also, I do so like the way you separate the dot from the question mark at the end of the poem, that perfect point about reduction, or as you say it .
I am more easy now fallling into silence.
Ah, Jim, I’ll meet you there. Hugs to you, r
R. because I cannot say what I dare say, the twofold silence is a blessing. And to borrow from James Wright, if we step out of the silence, will we break into blossom. Abbracci. J.
One of my favorite lines of all time
R. And when our body steps out of our body, then, we go for walks with Rumi. Your line, I am more easy now fallling into silence. Has been a blessed mantra for me for days — so thank you and know, many of us are often silent in response to your words, but they enrich us just the same. May you walk into the grace of this day and feel your light. J.
Thank you Dear Jim, that means a lot to me …