On my nightstand
I wish I could go to the store myself,
but nothing is walking distance from here
except a church at the end of the block.
It's Catholic.
It has a very quiet smell of incense all the time,
which is nice,
and it has very pretty windows,
the stained-glass kind where the red looks like wine
and the blue is so deep and beautiful
you wish you could put in your pocket and take it home with you.
I like to sit in that church when no one is there,
although I do sit in the back row since we're not members.
The cushions are a dark-red velvet
that turns lighter if you rub it the wrong way.
Sometimes I kneel there,
not to pray,
just to make my head that kind of empty still
that has a person feel more comfortable than they thought they were.
The priest there is named Father Compton.
He doesn't mind my being there.
He calls you "child" like he's in the movies.
He's old and has whole tufts of white hair
growing out of his nose
and he walks bent over,
but his eyes are clear and smart
and they notice the right things.
When he's looking at you,
you can tell he's thinking kind thoughts,
but he doesn't embarrass you by saying them out loud.
You don't have to do anything back.
—Elizabeth Berg, Joy School
On my easel
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| work in progress, day 1, evening, 4/18/20 24 x 48" canvas |
8 comments:
First thanks for that beautiful poem and introducing me to Elizabeth Berg. It really touched me as I remember as a young teen I would often go into the main Synagogue when going to youth meetings. This was after my mother passed and I was a troubled teen. I love your decision to write daily of your day and sharing what you are reading/doing/painting. May follow in your footsteps. As soon as the library opens I will check out if they have any Berg books. Sadly I have not been reading much and have to change that habit. Love your charcoal explorations.
I've enjoyed Elizabeth Berg's novels for years. Her attunement to evocative detail knocks me off my feet again and again. The passage above is from a novel, but I chose to excerpt it here by reshaping it to the form of poem to give more space and light to each phrase.
Thanks for letting me know that my what-I'm-reading-what-I'm-painting format is appealing.
What a terrific poem! And I love your work in progress!
As I mentioned to Carol above, I reshaped text from a novel into a poem format to enhance its readability—glad you liked it! And glad you like my work in progress. Thanks, Simone!
"Just to make my head that kind of empty still" - holy cow! Just where I want my head to be. And the WIP is already beckoning me into those dark crevices. You have a way of drawing me in with your...drawing. :)
Yes, yes, yes, that kind of empty still. Always available and possible, mostly so elusive. Thanks for drawing sweet conclusions about my … drawing : )
You can tell he's thinking kind thoughts.
Wouldn't it be wonderful if everyone looked at others that way?! So enjoyed this poem/not a poem. It works doesn't it? Lovely images running through my head, of visiting my grandmothers. Going to mass at their church. The red velvet, kneeling, praying, solemnity. Thank you for the introduction Dotty. And for the imagery.
I love this start. I see heaven, light fluffy clouds. Vague wings, an arm reaching out to embrace.
Wonderful post Dotty. :)
Sheila, thanks yet again for sharing what your eye picks up on—that arm reaching out to embrace, among other imgages : )
Also enjoyed the images and memories evoked by the lines of text from Joy School.
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