Bravely Afraid

[michaelboy]

Yellow Goldenrod writing tablets
with ruled lines on roughened paper were perfect for fat No. 2 pencils

I wish, sometimes, I could remember exactly, the feel and smell of the paper or the way the tip of the pencil would glide
over the surface.

I struggled then to make cursive letters like a capital "Z", "F" or that odd-looking "Q". I printed more often than I wrote in cursive
and I still do.

That fibrous paper had lines that wished I could write on them -- like some could. I was always afraid that my words would run out or that my thoughts would disappear before I could bring my struggling effort to form

I am still afraid that my words will run out when I open a window to type -- and often they do. Sometimes, though, it feels like I can still smell the gray-stained wood on my fingers.

So, in spite of fear, I resolve...
even though my hands aren't as small or nearly as supple.

* * *

somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond

somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience, your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skillfully, mysteriously) her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the colour of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens; only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands

~ From Complete Poems: 1904-1962 by E. E. Cummings

Comments

[wayfaringwordhack]

I was an unwilling aficionado of Big Chief red tablets. As a child I didn't mind them so much, but as a university student enrolled in the educational department, using them to make sure my "blackboard writing" was nice was offensive when I desired, rather, to be taught HOW to teach. ;)
I actually switched my major in my senior year having reached saturation with my prescribed sentence for the letter S: Silly snakes go rollerskating on Saturdays.

I am still afraid that my words will run out when I open a window to type -- and often they do. Sometimes, though, it feels like I can still smell the gray-stained wood on my fingers.

Keep the window open. Words that didn't come earlier might come later. :)

Love your sensory details.

[michaelboy]

Thank you -- also for the encouragement