"And suddenly / happiness"
a blue-yellow landscape with stars
Landscape with Stars, Henri-Edmond Cross, French, ca. 1905–1908
Priceless Gifts
by Anna Swir
translated by Czeslaw Milosz and Leonard Nathan
An empty day without events.
And that is why
it grew immense
as space. And suddenly
happiness of being
entered me.
I heard
in my heartbeat
the birth of time
and each instant of life
one after the other
came rushing in
like priceless gifts.
from Talking to My Body, translated from the Polish by Czeslaw Milosz and Leonard Nathan. Copper Canyon Press, 1996.
Dear Friends,
I love this poem by Anna Swir with a passion. It dovetails with my experience of happiness. Does it resonate for you?
It’s been the opposite of a day without events here. I was ill with a fever all weekend, then discovered drywood termites happily munching away at the house, which will require expensive eradication. A friend’s convertible was stolen from my driveway and my car was broken into and rifled through, my objects tossed like a tiny tornado. The story underneath is that I am fortunate to pay a mortgage on a house which can be munched on. I smile at the exterminator. I am fortunate enough to own a hooptie that can be rifled through. I smile at the carjacker. I needed to clean that damn car anyway.
I had a Mason jar full of keys in my car, and it is no longer there. Fortunately, I am not organized enough to label keys. If the thief wishes to try my front door, he will have a tangle of 30 odd keys to try. It would be physical comedy. Nevertheless, tomorrow I will replace the locks. For tonight, I trust.
Creative Invitation
Speaking of replacing locks, let’s imagine that as a metaphor. When have you had to replace the locks on or in your life? For that matter, are there locks, or doors that firmly close, inside your life | your body | your story | your memory | another?
When have locks opened for you, unbidden?
When have you metaphorically stolen a silver convertible?
What ancient locks have you inherited? What Mason jar full of unlabeled keys?
Draw or write about a lock.
such na spacious image and open hearted poem. At your invitation I asked myself about that mason jar of unlabeled keys, and I think that is an apt description of my inner life!! Be gentle with yourself, Abe... that is a lot of tiny - and not so tiny- intrusions all at once. May things be made whole soon enough.