How Wonderful…And Not

A grand poem and poem starter for an #unsilentsunday and maybe a run up to Thanksgiving.

Instructions? Well, I don’t have any instructions.  You know the ways of your world way better than I ever could.  I trust you. Have at it, hoss. Fill in the blanks below in the Hackpad below the poem, wonderful and not so wonderful.  And you can listen to the great Louisville band, My Morning Jacket, at the bottom of the post for inspiration if you want.

How Wonderful

How wonderful to be understood,
to just sit here while some kind person
relieves you of the awful burden
of having to explain yourself, of having
to find other words to say what you meant,
or what you think you thought you meant,
and of the worse burden of finding no words,
of being struck dumb . . . because some bright person
has found just the right words for you—and you
have only to sit here and be grateful
for words so quiet so discerning they seem
not words but literate light, in which
your merely lucid blossoming grows lustrous.
How wonderful that is!
And how altogether wonderful it is
not to be understood, not at all, to, well,
just sit here while someone not unkindly
is saying those impossibly wrong things,
or quite possibly they’re the right things
if you are, which you’re not, that someone
—a difference, finally, so indifferent
it would be conceit not to let it pass,
unkindness, really, to spoil someone’s fun.
And so you don’t mind, you welcome the umbrage
of those high murmurings over your head,
having found, after all, you are grateful
—and you understand this, how wonderful!—
that you’ve been led to be quietly yourself,
like a root growing wise in darkness
under the light litter, the falling words.

View How Wonderful on Hackpad.

What the hell, here’s another My Morning Jacket

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