It is not everyday that the world arranges itself into a poem – Wallace Stevens
There are those fortunate hours when the world consents to be made into a poem. – Mark Doty
A couple of weeks ago I had three Marks in my head – Doty, Nepo, Strand. I went for an amble through poetry books and quotes, and for some reason these two lines jumped out at me. I’ve written before that everyday life is a practice and a poem. It is clear that one of my life’s central preoccupations is witnessing the poetry in the most ordinary days.
My first response on reading that line by Stevens was that I disagree entirely; I think if you look closely, watch patiently, there is poetry to be seen everywhere, and every day. And Doty’s point about the world consenting to be made into a poem makes sense to me turned around the other way: it consents when we let it. When we turn our attention to the world, and keep our hearts open, there is poetry everywhere.
See the poetry I found, just in the last few weeks? All you have to do is look. Remember, what you see is what you get.
Glorious. And how different they each are… I really do think one of the greatest things is my camera on my iPhone- I catch moments like these now too and how amazing to look back on them..
oh yes, attention. being present to what is. slowing down. seeing in stillness. mantras I keep on repeat so I too can appreciate the poetry that is everywhere. and two simple practices that ground and center me…feel my feet, breathe into my belly. thank you.
I’m speechless. So maybe I should take my camera out more! Beautiful and thought-provoking as always…
I think of your “practice and poem” at least once a week. And I love that photo of Whit and Grace together.
I love your take on the Doty quote. You are so right. The world does consent when we let it. When we stop and take a moment to look around, what is there is simply magic.
Agree fully to this. When I do slow down and take in each moment and be present in them, the seconds feel like hours, time and life seem to expand. Often, though, with crazybusyfrantic life, I don’t. I don’t slow down, I don’t notice…and it is then I feel like I don’t have enough time to do what I want/need to do. The irony is if I just slowed down a bit, I would. I need to remember your practice and poem phrase more. Thank you for this.