A paradox to us is told,
In blood, split scarlet through-
The center of Story old
For us, nary is left to do.
Of binds that tie and hold
us fast, in Love, abides and will
recoil the curse, bring to the fold
all earth, and His' as well.
We hope in what we cannot see,
Hold fast to Whom we know
He dawned this dust, in Him we be
Our paradoxical abode.
Paradox fascinates me. Light and darkness, death and life, joy and sadness - they ask the question that begs for an answer or least a stop in day to day subsistence.
My daughter is a gentle and true critic. Her comments, "You've improved your rhyme and diction, that's really great, Mom. Poetry is about painting a picture not preaching a sermon." She then pulled out one of Flannery O'Connor's essays. She chose a few excerpts. I leafed through and chose one of mine own.
The idea of being a writer attracts a good many shiftless people, those who are merely burdened with poetic feelings or afflicted with sensibility. - F. O'Conner, Mystery and Manners, p.85
This is one of Kel's excerpts that was in short followed up with this sentence, "When you write a poem are you starting with the grand idea that you want to tell people about or are you starting with an object you want to describe to them?"
The longer you look at one object, the more of the world you see in it; - ibid p.77My thoughts on that mirror in thankfulness one of O'Conner's comments at the end of "The Nature and Aim of Fiction"-
I believe the teacher's work is largely negative, that it is largely a matter of saying "This doesn't work because..." or "This does work because...." The because is very important. The teacher can help you understand the nature of your medium, he can guide you in your reading. ibid, p.86
Diction - getting better- check. Rhyme - improving- yeah! Studying the spider on my front porch - homework!