I thought yesterday’s post needed a follow-up, something that could be useful to someone like myself who struggles to write truth through the art of fiction. So I wrote some words about it:
It’s important to get those little
things down
those things that seem
unimportant, and if
you’re lucky,
to connect them with red
and unexpected
threads: with the quality of pain
and light
and sound,
of feeling and color,
shape and texture. It’s the
least we can do, touch the
hem of the infinite with
this small bravery of truth
and the terror of knowing
that another small part of
you will fade and can never
return. But for now
your swallow clicks
in your ears, and the wind
howls in the night. Beside
you the cat sleeps easily
on the bed, and it’s
1:13 am.
Again.
[For some reason WordPress's tag bot recommended "1 Corinthians 13" when it picked up "1:13 am." I'm not a Christian and I know little or nothing of the Christian Bible, so I looked up the reference and it seemed to fit, somehow. Serendipitous connections are also a part of life, apparently.]
