Matthew Whitney

The work of the poet, artist, you.

In Spirituality
page from a book that reads, "The old story says that on the last day, the poet will look out over their fields and see the black clouds of death, the locusts and horsemen approaching. They will see that everyone, everything they have ever known is gone and that soon they will be, too. The poet will take it all in for a moment - one deep breath, maybe two - then they will walk back inside and close their door. They will fix the light, sit down at their writing table, and continue working on their latest draft."

I’ve been coming back to this little vignette lately. The first read you go, “huh!” as if it has some familiarity or particular resonance, then with subsequent reads it seeps a bit deeper. There is a posture of receiving What Is, and accepting it – you look around, take a couple deep breaths, and go back to work. Release worry, get centered in the moment, and get to tilling that little bit of earth in front of you. The last day is each day, and the only thing promised is what’s yours to do at the desk or easel or screen. And you are free.

– from The Penguin Book of Spiritual Verse, edited by Kaveh Akbar

September 25, 2024

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