A few years ago I sat with a brilliant thinker. We enjoyed each other’s company. He was wise and experienced. Already a prolific author versed in many fields of study. As we were about to depart, I asked him to impart some wisdom to a young writer. I have published a few small works. But I am the kind of person who comes up with an unending stream of ideas. I want to expand my generalist tendencies. I am the worst kind of visionary who is disciplined in imagination and slow in application.
I asked this scholar what must I do to be saved from being a mediocre writer. He looked at me in utter compassion–slight exaggeration–and said: “Write poetry!” Poetry? I had read my fair share of poems; enough to be familiar with names. But write poetry? So, recently, I listened to this wise saint and have explored a bit in poem writing. Not the kind that grabs the attention of well-versed experts, but the kind of poetry that is simple and child-like; the kind that rhymes with life; the experiential type that communicates not with types and shadows, but simplicity and clarity.
So here is my third:
Forgive me, Lord, for I have sinned,
My heart is tender, come within;
Rebuke my pride, bring me low,
And in the valley renew my soul.
-Poema, Explorations in Christian Piety
