A Note

P5250251

Kep, Cambodia.

This poem was taped to my refrigerator in Tempe, where it gave me much joy and inspiration. It was lost in subsequent moves, and I could remember neither the title nor the poet's name - only the feeling I had when I read it. Today I found the poem again and it was like seeing an old friend. It's by the Polish writer Wislawa Szymborska - a poet, Nobel laureate, and inspiring woman.

A Note

by Wislawa Szymborska

Life is the only way
to get covered in leaves,
catch your breath on the sand,
rise on wings;

to be a dog,
or stroke its warm fur;

to tell pain
from everything it's not;

to squeeze inside events,
dawdle in views,
to seek the least of all possible mistakes.

An extraordinary chance
to remember for a moment
a conversation held
with the lamp switched off;

and if only once
to stumble upon a stone,
end up soaked in one downpour or another,

mislay your keys in the grass;
and to follow a spark on the wind with your eyes;

and to keep on not knowing 
something important.

Posted on Thursday, Mar 25, 2010