Spying The Good

The Archer

Do you remember the artist and poet Kahlil Gibran?  I know I keep dating myself. 

His book The Prophet was a favourite of mine. He wrote it in 1923 but it was the children of the sixties, as we searched for the deeper meanings to life that brought his work to cult level.  What appealed to me in his poetic essays was the logic of his insights into every day life.  I gravitate to logic.  

Reading poetry has a slowing down, calming affect on me.  I love poetry written in verse, in prose, in song and in the sounds of nature.  There can be exaggerations, personifications, similes or any form of figurative speech, tricks of the trade, but a poem has to make sense to me.  It has to have something in it that I can see and evoke an emotion that’s tangible.  

Kahlil Gibran didn’t give us crumbs he gave us a feast with his paintings and his writing.

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Speaking of crumbs, my mind had a great time sitting on the beach this past weekend thinking about the world I’m creating for Concepción (Concha) the protagonist in my book, inventing obstacles to throw in her way.  I’ve been letting the crumbs of these thoughts sprinkle out on the keyboard the last couple of days and have missed visiting my blog.  I like the variety of writing in my life.  One feeds off of the other, or to express it how Kahlil Gibran did:  

Half of what I say is meaningless, but I say it so that the other half may reach you’.