Nicole, I love this. The refrain gives it that rhythm of a work song and echoes the swing of the scythe. And the rhythm of the tercets too gives it such a meditative introspective quality. I love the simple imagery. And the final stanza draws it together so beautifully.
Thank you, Melanie! I get emails when you post, but I need to get acquainted with the new space and format. Thank you for posting this in particular. I love ekphrastic poetry and I always enjoyed writing it, so I couldn't resist. I am thrilled just to have done it, because it's the first creative thing I have written in so very long.
Thank you so much, Katy. I'm so honored that you take the time to read and comment.
I firmly believe that the first and best response to poetry is simply enjoyment. Being able to discuss it isn't nearly as important as being able to enter in to a poem and to let it enter into you. I think it's a sadness that so often we focus more on being able to discuss and analyze poems more than being able to enjoy them. It's true that sometimes intelligent discussion can increase our enjoyment as we see more clearly what a poem is doing and how it's doing it. However, I think when we teach poetry we sometimes leave the impression that being able to have the discussion is the aim of poetry and that if you can't say something smart about it, you haven't really done your part as a reader. And that's a great mistake. The discussion should be secondary to the experience of being moved by a poem.
Melanie, this collection of poems and paintings is gorgeous. I learn much from listening to you converse with art. You aren't just responding in a reflective or descriptive way; you lead me on an imaginative journey that places me directly within the moment Van Gogh captures. I find myself even praying your words, for in truth "in this muddy / spring season I hope and watch, / but the golden time seems so far away." There's an immediacy and vulnerability I don't always hear in ekphrasis. So many moments linger with me: Jesus as a toddler who tumbled in Mary's arms. Wow. Van Gogh's need to "be held in the arms of so tender a mother" is poignant when I reach the end of that poem. Thank you for all of these.
Thank you, Abigail. I'm especially honored at the idea of you praying my words. In Seamus Heaney's Station Island a priest tells him to read poems as prayers and to translate St John of the Cross as his penance. And Kathleen Norris writes about how for her writing poems is sometimes a way to practice lectio divina. I've therefore long been fascinated by this blurring of the boundaries between prayer and poetry. I think in a sense all of my poems are prayers, even a small descriptive haiku is a prayer of praise like the Psalms and Canticles in which all of creation is a constant participant in the act of praise of the creator. I think that by taking time to notice and be in communion with nature, I am also being in communion with creation's creator. But then some poems move even further in to that place of lectio divina, a way of meditating more deeply on scripture. And then there's the practice of visio divina, which is using paintings of other forms of visual art as a focus in prayer. And I think Vincent Van Gogh especially invites that kind of looking and pondering and meditation and praying with his work. So ekphrasis then can become a place where visio divina meets lectio divina and the acts of looking, reading, and writing, all become a single stream of prayer.
I love all of this. One of my dreams is to write a book about poetry as spiritual practice. Noticing, communing, praising, meditating...it all wrestles the truth deeper into my being. I truly can't imagine life without it. After reading your thoughtful response, I think YOU should write that book! What you said about ekphrasis as the crossroad of visio divina and lectio divina could be an ENTIRE book. Melanie, I know I am a broken record, but your writing blesses me deeply so I will just keep repeating myself. :)
Oh I hope you do write your book. I've thought many times in my life that I might write a book on this or that, but I've never had the kind of focus or follow-through a book demands. Perhaps someday when I'm done with homeschooling life will surprise me, but I have no idea how people write books while also raising children.
Though I have to say, many of your long posts exhibit the tenacity required. If you had a writing coach giving you a weekly assignment and compiling the chapters you would be able to do it no problem. Your long form writing is gorgeous and coherent.
Such tenderness, imagination, and insight in the poem about the Pieta, Melanie. I feel the delight and attention in all of the poems; that one is extra special.
Swing the scythe, reaper.
The grain will move as you do.
The sun will shine, relentless.
The mountains, cool but distant.
...
Swing the scythe, reaper.
Lost among the landscape
Working in the background
Wheat will not consume you.
...
Swing the scythe, reaper.
The day fans out before you
The work in golden ripples
The bundles tied beside you.
...
Swing the scythe, reaper.
Tireless, it resists you
And yet it falls before you
And yet it falls as you do.
Nicole, I love this. The refrain gives it that rhythm of a work song and echoes the swing of the scythe. And the rhythm of the tercets too gives it such a meditative introspective quality. I love the simple imagery. And the final stanza draws it together so beautifully.
Also, thank you so much for joining in with a poem. It's so lovely to see you here in this space.
Thank you, Melanie! I get emails when you post, but I need to get acquainted with the new space and format. Thank you for posting this in particular. I love ekphrastic poetry and I always enjoyed writing it, so I couldn't resist. I am thrilled just to have done it, because it's the first creative thing I have written in so very long.
These are beautiful, Melanie! Thank you for sharing! This is my "Sower" poem:
https://explorationsinekphrasis.substack.com/p/the-sower
Beautiful! It's always a source of amazement to me how many different potential poems one painting can hold. Like a bottomless well of inspiration.
Thank you so much, Melanie, for writing along this Lent and for sharing these other poems and paintings.
And I did not know about Pope Leo mentioning Van Gogh! Now I like him even more!
I'm so grateful for your inspiration and invitation. Your beautiful poems made me want to write as much as Vincent's pictures did.
Melanie, I wish I were more competent in poetry so that I could discuss it intelligently, but I do know that I very much enjoy your work!
Thank you so much, Katy. I'm so honored that you take the time to read and comment.
I firmly believe that the first and best response to poetry is simply enjoyment. Being able to discuss it isn't nearly as important as being able to enter in to a poem and to let it enter into you. I think it's a sadness that so often we focus more on being able to discuss and analyze poems more than being able to enjoy them. It's true that sometimes intelligent discussion can increase our enjoyment as we see more clearly what a poem is doing and how it's doing it. However, I think when we teach poetry we sometimes leave the impression that being able to have the discussion is the aim of poetry and that if you can't say something smart about it, you haven't really done your part as a reader. And that's a great mistake. The discussion should be secondary to the experience of being moved by a poem.
Melanie, this collection of poems and paintings is gorgeous. I learn much from listening to you converse with art. You aren't just responding in a reflective or descriptive way; you lead me on an imaginative journey that places me directly within the moment Van Gogh captures. I find myself even praying your words, for in truth "in this muddy / spring season I hope and watch, / but the golden time seems so far away." There's an immediacy and vulnerability I don't always hear in ekphrasis. So many moments linger with me: Jesus as a toddler who tumbled in Mary's arms. Wow. Van Gogh's need to "be held in the arms of so tender a mother" is poignant when I reach the end of that poem. Thank you for all of these.
Thank you, Abigail. I'm especially honored at the idea of you praying my words. In Seamus Heaney's Station Island a priest tells him to read poems as prayers and to translate St John of the Cross as his penance. And Kathleen Norris writes about how for her writing poems is sometimes a way to practice lectio divina. I've therefore long been fascinated by this blurring of the boundaries between prayer and poetry. I think in a sense all of my poems are prayers, even a small descriptive haiku is a prayer of praise like the Psalms and Canticles in which all of creation is a constant participant in the act of praise of the creator. I think that by taking time to notice and be in communion with nature, I am also being in communion with creation's creator. But then some poems move even further in to that place of lectio divina, a way of meditating more deeply on scripture. And then there's the practice of visio divina, which is using paintings of other forms of visual art as a focus in prayer. And I think Vincent Van Gogh especially invites that kind of looking and pondering and meditation and praying with his work. So ekphrasis then can become a place where visio divina meets lectio divina and the acts of looking, reading, and writing, all become a single stream of prayer.
I love all of this. One of my dreams is to write a book about poetry as spiritual practice. Noticing, communing, praising, meditating...it all wrestles the truth deeper into my being. I truly can't imagine life without it. After reading your thoughtful response, I think YOU should write that book! What you said about ekphrasis as the crossroad of visio divina and lectio divina could be an ENTIRE book. Melanie, I know I am a broken record, but your writing blesses me deeply so I will just keep repeating myself. :)
Oh I hope you do write your book. I've thought many times in my life that I might write a book on this or that, but I've never had the kind of focus or follow-through a book demands. Perhaps someday when I'm done with homeschooling life will surprise me, but I have no idea how people write books while also raising children.
And all the homeschooling mothers said amen.
Though I have to say, many of your long posts exhibit the tenacity required. If you had a writing coach giving you a weekly assignment and compiling the chapters you would be able to do it no problem. Your long form writing is gorgeous and coherent.
Wow, quite a bounty of exuberant ekphrasis! Thank you for sharing all of these. Since you ask, I'll share one I did to a self-portrait.
https://alangirling.substack.com/p/lineaments-of-change?r=1fgbp
Thank you for reading and commenting! And thank you very much for sharing your poem. What a treat.
So glad you liked it, and seeing his portraits in a fresh way.
Such tenderness, imagination, and insight in the poem about the Pieta, Melanie. I feel the delight and attention in all of the poems; that one is extra special.
Thank you, Elizabeth. That one is especially dear to me.