The writing process is a source of mystery. I’m constantly surprised by how inspiration comes, how ideas develop, and by the interplay of various elements: intuition, reason, structure, prayer, and serendipity. After years of trying my hand at creative pursuits, I feel more participant than master. To be sure, learning craft and improving skills are important. But if an artist improves at anything, it might be his or her relationship with the creative process itself. Like getting to know a person, being creative means getting to know the moods, quirks, and vicissitudes of creativity.
The poem below started out as the mid-section of a longer poem. As I worked at it, a couple different themes and structures emerged. I realized this one poem was actually two. So I split it up. Today’s poem, “Silent Film,” took shape as a tanka, a Japanese form whose five lines follow the syllable count 5-7-5-7-7. Many will notice the first three lines are the same as haiku and, as I understand it, haiku grew out of tanka, eventually becoming a separate form.
Next week, I’ll post the other poem that split off from “Silent Film”. It grew in a very different direction and form. Both poems will be in a book I’m calling Above the Rain. I am also planning to self-publish A Song of Glass: Dreams, Stories, and Poems in the next few months.
Silent Film
The moon glows with the
memory of the sun and
changes the world to
silent film breeze-flickering
on the screen of my window.
A Wandering Minstrel 