a seemingly magical process of transformation, creation, or combination.
I use the term alchemy quite often these days. I am torn between thinking that to name a thing gives it power and the more ubiquitous a thing is, the less value it has. Yet, it’s the only word to sum up what happens when one steeps in lucid, beautiful literature and seeing that influence show up in one’s own writing.
While I’m not at the level of beautiful writing, I now see the results of years of reading beauty in my own work. Words come easier and with more frequency now. Words I am not ashamed to claim as mine.
I unearth small drifts of paper
post-it notes, ragged scraps
torn corners of letters, receipt backs
stitched with furtive crabbed marks
smeared with barely legible words.
Squinting, I work to decipher them
each a step away from trash
only to discover a phrase, a paragraph
glowing, whole and necessary
surprised to remember it is mine.