A Poem In Two Senses

I remember when I first heard about Evelyn Wood’s Speed-Reading course. It was as if someone had proposed rape—every book to be poked into and tossed aside: slam, bam, thank-you ma’am. No one in my home would ever have countenanced such pillaging. Poetry teaches courtship—a love affair with words—and it is the words that woo. I never look into a book that does not smile sweetly in return and suggest that we spend a lovely day together. The pages all turn slowly and I enjoy the texture of their flesh and the perfume of the printer's ink. I turn the open book over and put it a little above my waist as I lay my back to the meadow, clasping hands behind my head and closing my eyes. In silence I ponder the wonderful thing the book has just said to me before turning to her again.

______________A Poem in Two Senses______________

A poem is partly a puzzle
a problem to be solved
or put into the cold case files:

turn the page prematurely
and the ancient curses are in place.

This is a poem in one sense.

A poem in the other sense
is a Delphic Oracle rising
from subterranean pools:

pass without payment
the cave of wells
and the pilgrim is in peril

the journey is in jeopardy.

readings are archeological
you need to pitch a tent.

7/2/05

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And this too is how we come to scripture, to the writings of prophets, to the doorway of the Muse. Scripture is the divine poetic. A dark, black hole may await any speed-reader who would so pillage heaven and rape the Word of God. Perhaps they know not what it is they do. Abba forgive them then and those who teach them too.