For me, writing is a miraculous process. It’s as miraculous as Spring itself, when buds arise from frozen ground and greenery leafs out from wood that’s hard and unyielding.
For 50 years I’ve been writing almost daily. I’m driven not by expertise but by my own bafflement about many things — some of them “in here” and some of them “out there.” Every time I write, I’m surprised by what I discover about myself and/or the world.
So I no longer wait until I have a clear idea to start putting words on the page. If I did, I’d never write a word! I simply start writing, trusting that the writing itself will help me dig into my bafflement, uncover what I already know, and point me toward what I need to learn next.
And if tomorrow I find out that I got it wrong, I know that none of my words will go to waste. Instead, they become compost for the next round of new growth.
Here’s a poem that reflects my experience of the writing life. I offer it partly as an encouragement to those who write for any reason, personal or professional. Trust the process!
I offer it also as an encouragement for Spring to arrive ASAP! As they say, we are so, like, done with winter in Madison, Wisconsin! Totally…
The World Once Green Again
That tree from its dense wooden trunk
surprises into leaf
as my tight-fibered heart leafs out
in unexpected speech.
I know that trunk, so thick, so slow,
its heartwood core so like my own.
Yet here I celebrate that we
can take leave of our density
to dance the wind and sing the sun.
Our words, like leaves, in season spring
and then in season fall,
but at their rise they prove a power
that gentle conquers all.
As shriveled leaves return to earth
to nourish roots of leaves unstrung,
so dry words fall back to the heart
to decompose into their parts
and feed the roots of worlds unsung.
And when speech fails, the dark trunk stands
’til most surprising spring
wells up the voice that ever speaks
the world once green again.
This poem is printed here with the permission of the author.