Unseen and Seen

 

Water Vapour: the invisible, gaseous phase of water.

Dew: tiny water droplets condensed from water vapour.

As many mornings since childhood: I walk outside, bend down, then run my fingers and palm gently across the dew-soaked blades of grass. This simple gesture connects me with the earth and sky.

Poetry is as dew: the evidence of something changed, that comes to view from one state to another.

The All and None of This

 

I need air, not just to breathe, but for its open sky.

I need water, not just to drink, but to cry, to float and swim.

I need food, not just to live, but for its fuel of time, to be, of being with.

To make I need the share of air, of water, food, of you.

To love I need the all and none of this, the kiss of life, the touch of dew.

Exploitation and the Artist

 

Everything I experience is subject to the possibility it will be expressed in my art, music, or words. Take yesterday as an example. I reported my sister's accident and ponder on the brief moment of time when she viewed the inevitability of impending pain. With this account the reader becomes witness.

The experience I wrote about was not mine. With this comes the added care of shaping the words so they are respectful of a person's dignity. The artist can so easily be the parasite of incident and feeling.