Weekday
by: Billy Collins
Pure sunlight
on the miniature orange tree
and the white columns of the porch.
How extraordinary it would be
some morning on earth
to be dipped into creation.
Billy Collins is talking about simple wonder in this poem. Yes, wonder CAN be simple--a miniature orange tree dipped in sunlight. And it is always free to everyone, from poets to garbage collectors.
I spent most of today inside my office at the library, staring at a computer monitor. A busy-work day that didn't require much in the way of creativity or thought. Just pointing, clicking, copying, pasting. Essential stuff, but, ultimately, uninteresting.
I climbed the steps to my office around 7:30 this morning and didn't go outside again until a little after 5 p.m. During summer, if I'm working, I try not to go outdoors during the day much because I know how difficult it will be to return to my desk.
Of course the day was beautiful and warm. Almost 80 degrees. I stood on the roof of the library, watching a sailboat glide past the breakwater, Lake Superior a deep, almost unnatural blue. As if it was painted by Monet who was trying to capture its blue essence.
At home now, I'm tired bordering on exhausted. My wife is asleep, and my son is in his room swearing like General Patton at his online gaming friends.
Perhaps, tomorrow morning, Saint Marty will feel dipped in creation. Or at least dipped in caffeine.
by: Martin Achatz
It took God six days to create
the universe like some cosmic
paint-by-numbers landscape
because first he had to create
canvas, colors, paints, and numbers.
He created algebra later, to punish us
for biting that goddam apple.
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