Yellow Flames Flutter
The other night I pulled out my house copy of InsideOut. Not sure why. Maybe because it had somehow turned up at my bedside. And the solitude it had poured from seemed to be calling.
I realize that many of the poems are just glimpses, like this one...
Kale is purpling,
bluing and
purpling.
Or this one...
Little lemon tongues,
wagged off at last.
And this one...
Lightning flashes
and I write
of yellow leaves.
There are longer poems in the book too, but these are the kinds that solitude evoked—a simple focusing on one vision. An awe, if you will, and a willingness to capture that awe in very few words.
So you will not be surprised when I was pleased by Chapter 7 of Sanctuary of the Soul, which suggested poetry (reading or writing it), as a way to embrace silence and release ourselves from distraction.
Foster shares this poem from Robert Siegel...
Yellow flames flutter
about the feeder:
A Pentecost of finches.
Where does Siegel (or anyone?) come up with something like that? First the heart must see... and flutter. Near the feeder, in the yard, perhaps beside a lake or the sea.
I realize that many of the poems are just glimpses, like this one...
Kale is purpling,
bluing and
purpling.
Or this one...
Little lemon tongues,
wagged off at last.
And this one...
Lightning flashes
and I write
of yellow leaves.
There are longer poems in the book too, but these are the kinds that solitude evoked—a simple focusing on one vision. An awe, if you will, and a willingness to capture that awe in very few words.
So you will not be surprised when I was pleased by Chapter 7 of Sanctuary of the Soul, which suggested poetry (reading or writing it), as a way to embrace silence and release ourselves from distraction.
Foster shares this poem from Robert Siegel...
Yellow flames flutter
about the feeder:
A Pentecost of finches.
Where does Siegel (or anyone?) come up with something like that? First the heart must see... and flutter. Near the feeder, in the yard, perhaps beside a lake or the sea.
Labels: Richard Foster, Sanctuary of the Soul, silence, solitude
posted by L.L. Barkat at
1:14 PM
1 Comments:
I like how Siegel uses that colon as end-stop, to get our attention and force us to pause a moment to ensure we get the full effect of that wonderful unexpected final line. (The symbolism is gorgeous.) His use of alliteration over so few lines is also notable.
Solitude, yes, and also presence.
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