Good morning…
My forever writer-friend emailed me.
“Loved your post about tweaking your final tweet. We are in constant edit mode, aren’t we, as we listen harder, hear more? Reading a book of poems called A Maze Me: Poems for Girls by Naomi Shihab Nye this morning and loved this one. I thought you would, too.
******
Because of Poems
Words have secret parties.
Verbs, adjectives, and nouns
meet outside their usual boundaries,
wearing hats.
MOODY feels doubtful about attending
and pauses near the door, ready to escape.
But she’s fascinated by DAZZLE.
BEFRIEND throws a comforting arm
around her shoulder.
LOST and REMEMBER huddle
in the same corner, trading
phone numbers.
I serve punch.
******
So my dear, keep serving punch. I know it’s an unfinished recipe.”
“Human life is a struggle, isn’t it? It’s a life sentence to hard labor. Like field hands longing for quitting time and working stiffs with nothing to hope for but payday, I’m given a life that meanders and goes nowhere— months of aimlessness, nights of misery! I go to bed and think, ‘How long till I can get up?’ I toss and turn as the night drags on—and I’m fed up…My days come and go swifter than the click of knitting needles, and then the yarn runs out—an unfinished life!” (Job 7:1-6, MSG).
Amid all that is unfinished in our lives, our best bet is to keep serving the punch God mixes fresh every morning.
…Sue…
