Monday, January 16, 2012

You must believe

On Poetry and Craft [excerpt]
by Theodore Roethke

The poem, even a short time after being written, 
seems no miracle; unwritten, it seems 
something beyond the capacity of the gods.


Art is the means we have of undoing the damage of 
haste. It's what everything else isn't.


You can't make poetry simply by avoiding clich├ęs.


There's a point where plainness is no longer a virtue, 
when it becomes excessively bald, wrenched.

You must believe: a poem is a holy thing -- a good poem, 
that is.

In that short excerpt from Roethke's book, On Poetry & Craft, there's enough to think about all morning.  And a quiet one it will be - winter is finally here on January 16.  The temp with the windchill is supposed to be currently -37c.  So that means the dog will wait for his walk, and possibly even forego the morning walk, if not the afternoon one.  

I took these photos one day this past week.  I hardly buy white flowers in winter - but suddenly I see the appeal of white flowers in this season.

Vita Sackville-West devoted an entire section of her garden to white flowers.  There's a piece she wrote in The Guardian while planning the garden which is quite lovely.

VS-W also said:
"White flowers are anathema to all but the oldest and most sophisticated of gardeners."

So who knows, perhaps I'm becoming more sophisticated in my old age.  

And even though Edmonton (at Latitude 53) must be considered a Northern town, I know 
people who live even further North.  So here's a little blast from the '80s for all of you : )

1 comment:

  1. the poem... unwritten, seems
    something beyond the capacity of the gods.

    anybody who's ever crated anything knows that feeling oh so well. and how beautiful to discover that bringing a work of art to life is no miracle: just intentionality, work, and time.

    you have captured the elegance of the white flowers beautifully!


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