I am a trifle early posting my response to Brenda’s wordle for the week, but it occurs to me occasionally, that it doesn’t matter when I post a poem response; it only matters that I link it when the host blog is up and running.
Process: Part of my process is always the way I copy the words down, that is, their order. I start herding and separating. Once my columns were in place, this time, I zeroed in on joy, jotted the word requires, and acid, jotted the word grief. Often, that is all that is required to be off to the races. This time, I played for a while with joy, wrote a series of questions for myself, looked up joy’s meaning and etymology, copied several quotes down… then, I was off to the races.
A chemist’s acumen gauges grief’s
acid juices, sprinkled with a measured
hand, for it can strip away all
knowledge of joy.
Joy is a supple, subtle craft, requiring
an alchemist’s tender touch, for its
warm oil can sweep away all
knowledge of grief.
We must be touched by acid
grief to know the balm of joy.
I will see you over at The Sunday Whirl [the wordle won't be up for a few hours yet]. Reading poetry is a nice way to spend a Sunday.