You are currently browsing the daily archive for April 29th, 2006.
With the tree not yet removed,
we welcomed the new year—
watched the ball drop, went to bed.
Technically, it was morning. But does
my praying without ceasing halt,
when I sleep, dream of a world
in which we all belong?
Imagine a garden with a wrought iron
gate. Imagine John Lennon
humming to the yellow roses.
Finally, I get up. But the sky is dark.
And I, in solitude, contemplate
the grass that looks like hay. When it
starts to rain, the trunks of the back yard
trees are barely brown. Yet a light shines
in a window—across the way.
And what reason have they to leave the light
still burning? A guide for my morning prayer:
O my God, to see.
Making Our Lives Available to Others
One of the arguments we often use for not writing is this: "I have nothing original to say. Whatever I might say, someone else has already said it, and better than I will ever be able to." This, however, is not a good argument for not writing. Each human person is unique and original, and nobody has lived what we have lived. Furthermore, what we have lived, we have lived not just for ourselves but for others as well. Writing can be a very creative and invigorating way to make our lives available to ourselves and to others.
We have to trust that our stories deserve to be told. We may discover that the better we tell our stories the better we will want to live them.
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