Saturday, November 28, 2015
"Shit" is a pretty good example.
And, this morning, floating burnished in my head are the name and words, "Dismal Swamp." How I wish I had contrived so perfect a perfection. I realize I cannot "have" it in any literal sense. It is like looking into the eye of a hawk -- present, fierce, and the more challenging because I know it doesn't give a shit about "challenges." But it is perfect somehow ... and what are perfections for if not an improvement that is utterly impossible?
Dismal swamp. Its literal size and location and being are just the tip of the iceberg. What goes unseen is the redolence and suggestions in my mind. What a fine word "dismal" is. What a tall tale "swamp" can tell.
Part of what beckons to me is that there is no beckoning. It is some unpitted and polished ball bearing that seems to await its time: And how could it possibly be "waiting?"
Wish I'd said that ... but grateful to have made its acquaintance: Dismal swamp.