Poets tell us what life is
Life is the only way
to get covered in leaves,
catch your breath on the sand,
rise on wings;
to be a dog,
or stroke its warm fur;
to tell pain
from everything it’s not;
to squeeze inside events,
dawdle in views,
to seek the least of all possible mistakes.
An extraordinary chance
to remember for a moment
a conversation held
with the lamp switched off;
and if only once
to stumble upon a stone,
end up soaked in one downpour or another,
mislay your keys in the grass;
and to follow a spark on the wind with your eyes;
and to keep on not knowing
something important.
-Wislawa Szymborska
This Nobel prize-winning poet speaks to me, reminds me of those important conversations with the lamp switched off, where truth gets told in the dark or sitting side-by-side, shoulder to shoulder, when not knowing becomes owned and voiced, heard. Life is the way, the vehicle for extraordinary things to happen. If we pay attention.My thanks to Lee Hancock for introducing me to this poem.