Poetry is A Habit of Mind
©May 1st, 2018
By Vijaya Sundaram
Today, we did crosswords together,
My daughter and I, focused and intent,
While my husband chimed in
From the other room, whence guitar music
Flowed in, and eddied around our ears.
Today, the sun poured down
And awoke a rain-drenched day,
The birds rejoiced loudly.
I saw the dog’s asking look,
Heard children on the playground,
Did this and that necessary thing
As the day wore on, and was
Adrift on a tide of being and doing.
It was not always thus.
Busy-ness dragged me along
Behind its wheels for decades,
And if I wasn’t crushed, it was
Because I adjusted myself as I
Looked around, reminding myself
That there was more to see.
Poetry is a habit of mind,
I use it to shape and translate
The world with the clay of memory.
I rejoice that I have this time.
And when the peace of this flows in,
It spins on the wheel of my making
While I shape it into words –
For I seek a translation always –
Forever a stranger in a strange world.
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