Wednesday, October 6, 2010


I read something in Walden a long time ago that continues to resurface in my mind. Thoreau asserts that to be a good writer you must first be a great observer.

I'm probably not so good at observing, at least not in any scientific way,
but I wonder if there is another kind of observation.

An observation:
that a picture wouldn't capture, but a metaphor would.

the kind of observation
where you see a moment like a watermelon lifted up and dashed upon the rocks--exploding.
Or maybe
when you feel the moods of nature bleed out from the sun like melted butter, and glaze the fields a golden hue.

if you just saw a watermelon lying cracked upon a rock you must have been distracted.
You missed it.
You missed all the waking glory;
all the vibrant buzzing,
constant swelling...
and release.

Look closely:

its a moment ready breathing:
steeped in season,
arc of reason
mirrored full and rounded fell--
stretch and coil
flattened moon,
rolling in...again...
filling sanded shell.

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