A Few Words on my Introduction to Poetry

The first time I wrote a poem as an adult, I was twenty-seven. This was three years ago, or thereabouts, and I had been reading about the life of Rich Mullins. Rich Mullins was a Christian musician who passed away far too soon, but the life he led and the legacy he left behind speak to not only the great talent he possessed, but also to the great quality of his character.

I had been reading about Rich, and it came to my attention that he had been greatly influenced early on in his journey by the story of Saint Francis of Assisi, a man who set aside a life of wealth and ease to follow a mighty call God had placed on his life. So as is often the case with rabbit holes, one thing led to another, and in this case, Rich led me to Francis. And it was in my reading about Saint Francis that I had a thought—a seed of an idea—which would turn into a poem.

I pictured Francis in one of these early moments of flux, sitting in the still of the day beside a fountain and meditating on the goodness of God. Just sitting beside the water and listening. Seeing the beauty in simplicity and wondering why something so cheap and common as water could stir up such feelings as those. This was the picture which came to me, and it occurred that I should find a way to write it down. Why as a poem? Because I’m somebody who quickly loses steam when it comes to maintaining enthusiasm, and I didn’t think I could manage a short story. And just like that a poem was born.

In the three years or so since I wrote that first poem, I’ve written hundreds more. Some like it, some very much not. I caught the bug, so to speak, and discovered I have more of an ability to stick with things than I once thought. But I digress. I can be a very unserious person, and this website can attest to that fact, but I have a serious side as well, and I try to show that when I can. I’ll leave you with that first poem I wrote, both because I’m still proud of it and because it’s cool to see the progress I’ve made since that time. Enjoy!

A NAMELESS POND IN A NAMED FOREST

Serenity. 

Cool, clear water flows from an unmarked stream down, 

Down, weaving between rocks and ridges it picks up speed, now.

One journey has reached a climax of sorts, 

Everything before has led up to this significance. 

Another now picks up his mantle, 

The conclusion of something cascading into the start of something new. 

Stones give their greetings and speak of their experience, 

While sticks and leaves, 

Though their time may be short,

Sing songs of good tidings and welcome. 

Color, 

Not to be outdone,

Spreads its palette as far as the eye can see. 

Reds, yellows, greens, 

Different shades one and all. 

And of course, 

At the center of all this;

Blue. 

The eye of the beholder of all these things holds fast in wonder, 

While the heart, in turn, steadies from its time of distress. 

Frozen in time, this place may be, but more alive by each passing breath. 

Rest. 

All of this has been designed to perfect specification.

Peace is the portion of anyone lucky enough to happen here. 

The Father knows this place, 

His seal of approval long since stamped.

Ears that hear much will find a lovely sound,

Minds, a peace long since searched for to no avail.

If you find this place, 

Hide yourself away here for a time.

Hide, and seek the One who made this place with purpose. 

Whose intention, though a mystery, is always one for good.