I’m Snoopy-spin-happy today to welcome John Blase into this space as part of our series on Making Manifest. John knows how to pay attention, and when he bears witness, his words touch deep places. And someone who cries when Linus lights the tree and gives his that’s-what-Christmas-is-all-about-Charlie-Brown speech? Well, that makes them extra special. Welcome, John!
If my Mother said it once, she said it a gabillion times. From crossing the tracks to get to baseball practice, to navigating the minefield known as dating, to learning how to iron a shirt, to wrestling with what I wanted to do with my life, her go-to instruction to me was Just pay attention! I’d love to tell you I welcomed that advice at each turn, but you know better than that. Still, she persisted, which many days is what parenting is all about, and the line took root, slow and sure. Now, inching closer to fifty years of age, it is evergreen.
I don’t know if Dave Harrity’s mother gave him the same line growing up, but it sure feels like it. Making Manifest is all about paying attention, to both yourself and the big, wide world around you, and then allowing those details to spill themselves into the container known as poetry. Yes, poetry. Harrity writes:
Learning to write poetry will help you in all other kinds of writing (and even art-making) since poetry and narrative share the same DNA – their highest aims exactness, tightness, and fluidity – using language to craft a coherent picture of being a human in the world.
I could not agree more with his aims – exactness, tightness, and fluidity. As you work your way through the book’s creative practices, keep those aims in view. Like it or not, we now live in a world drowning in words, and the challenge before us as women and men of faith is to strive for inspiration, not just more information. This inspiration comes via words that are concise; if not, we’re just adding to the flood. And while these words need a brevity to them, they must also be believable, or in Harrity’s words – a coherent picture of being a human in the world. What you and I are doing is the work of being a witness, saying in so many words this is what I see or that is what I heard or those taste just like...
Yes, the witness must be sensual, or it’s not believable.
In closing, I’d like to share a love poem. One of the realities I believe I am on this earth to witness to, or make manifest, is marriage. I am aware it is not a reality for everyone, but it is for me, and not trying to speak of it with exactness and fluidity would be an issue of me missing the mark of my life (the scriptural definition of sin).
LOVE POEM NO.15
In the time it takes for
a rising yellow moon to
turn white, he recalled
the first time he held her
hand, how he burned
from stem to stern
and hoped to god she
would be the one.
The white moon high in
the sky now, he turns to
watch her sleep feeling the
same heat he felt back
then but it burns wilder
now. He trembles, for
she has been his only
anchor to this earth.
Turning to check the clock
he realizes he isn’t
interested in what time
it is. It is night, and they
are there, she dreaming
beneath the sheets and
the moon, he holding
on and on and on.
John Blase preached for over a decade but then he thought he’d go where the money is, so he started writing poetry. He’s a lucky man with a stunning wife and three kids who look like their mother. They all live in Colorado. His books include Know When To Hold ‘Em: The High Stakes Game of Fatherhood; Touching Wonder: Recapturing the Awe of Christmas; and All Is Grace: A Ragamuffin Memoir (co-written with Brennan Manning). He ponders faithfully at www.thebeautifuldue.wordpress.com.
Linking up today with Kelli’s Unforced Rhythms of Grace.
Oh, what a beautiful, beautiful poem, John. Thank you so much for this start to my day.
You’ve gathered some amazing friends, Sandra. 🙂
And YOU are one of them. 🙂
Hi, Tania. Thanks so much for taking the time to leave a word or two.
the love of love
yes, this
That poem makes my heart beat a little faster, Karin. 🙂
Thanks, Karin!
Great words to wake up to!
Makes you want to go outside and pay attention–right, Bruce? 🙂
Many thanks, Bruce!
Is it just me or is this love poem reminiscent of Drew & Ellie Holcomb’s song “The Wine We Drink”? Especially the line (which the whole song seems to revolve around): “You are the one thing that I know.”
Sandy, I know you know what I’m talking about. 😉 And John, if you don’t know the song, it might be worth a listen …
(Btw, Sandy, you are always welcome to link up with us at Unforced Rhythms, friend. ALWAYS.)
I’m going to slip that video up above. Thanks, Kelli!
Hi, Kelli. I was not familiar with the song…but I am now – thank you.
I am paying attention – the timing of this piece is tick-tock, right on. Thanks for hosting it Sandra, and thanks for sharing here, sir John.
.15 <– and the other 14 love poems?
Blessings.
Search “love poem” on his blog. 😉
Yes, the other love poems are on my blog, all of them sorta lovey.
Beautiful poem, John – an inspiring example of paying attention.
Thank you very much, April!
I appreciate this wonderful reminder, both from you, John, and Dave’s book, about how to use our words to witness and simply *how* to do that with our words–exactly, tightly, yet fluidly. Your exquisite poem does that. It’s so lovely. It seems as if your dream and your wife’s have been realized, and yet in another way, this is really only the beginning. It would seem that #15 is only the tip of the iceberg of the depths of what you two will feel and experience. Thank you for a peek into such beauty shared and realized.
Thank *you* Sandy for allowing us to witness beauty!
Lynn
Thanks, Lynn. We’re about to celebrate 24yrs, so I think we’re gonna hang on to each other.
How do you DO this, John?? I am in tears as I read this poem. I’m not nearly as romantic as you are – believe me, I don’t stare at anyone sleeping in the moonlight! – but this, THIS is what it’s about. This connection to the earth, this holding on and on and on. Thank you. Sandy – what a grand parade of attention-payers you’ve got goin’ on here. Deep thanks to both of you today.
Diana, thanks. And that the poem elicited tears? Well, that touched me, it really did.
Gorgeous poem, John…Thanks, Sandra for adding the music and for hosting 🙂
Hi, Dolly. Thank you very much!
John, I really appreciated your reminder to keep the aim of exactness, tightness, and fluidity before me as I continue to write. Being concise isn’t one of my strengths. I enjoyed your poem tremendously and had the pleasure of reading a few more on your blog today. Thank you, Sandy, for introducing us to so many wonderful writers this month! 🙂
Thank you, Tarissa. Being concise is a constant challenge, worth it but hard. Keep on practicing!
I loved this poem when I first read it on John’s blog. Seems like it gets better with age, as does any good love story:) After reading John’s last words before the poem, about making things manifest or missing the mark, I feel challenged to spend some time seeking out what I’m here to witness too.
Thanks for what you said, Kimberly. Those words mean a great deal.
Wow! Exactness, tightness, fluidity–bearing witness with sensual words. Between you and Dave I am beginning to understand the weight of a word and all its ability to bear witness to such amazing glory. Thank you!
Kelly, thank you. And I love what you said – ‘the weight of a word’ – wonderful phrase!
Thank you for this, John and Sandy! I couldn’t agree with John’s mother more… paying attention IS of utmost importance. We tend to take so much of God’s goodness, grace, and gifts for granted.
Hi, Carol. Yes, my mother was right about a lot of things…
“One of the realities I believe I am on this earth to witness to, or make manifest, is marriage”. I had to come —>this close to nearly destroying my marriage to understand the value of it all and especially this bare, naked truth. Thanks Mr. Blaise and thank you Sandra for keeping the porch light on for us.
Thank you for your comment, Loretta. I’m grateful you’re on the other side of ‘this close.’
I am so moved by John’s poem on this post—and every poem he has “made manifest.” I believe he has a truly beautiful gift, the way he loves, pays attention, and leaves little but more than enough on the page. Thanks Sandy and John.
This, and this poem, are the most beautiful things I’ve ever read. I tremble in holy hush.