Saturday Morning Musings

One of my favorite poems is by Edward Dorn. It is simply titled "Song," as are many of his poems, and begins in media res in the voice of a wanderer who, at least in his imagination, is searching the world for his lost love. The opening lines have always haunted me...

Again, I am made the occurrence
of one of her charms [...]

Not only do I love those lines within the context of the poem, but they seem to me to be a description of all the avenues of inspiration that converge to make a poem. I know that is how some of my haiku come together: a tune stuck in my head; a full moon; the fear that we have seen the last of truth; remembering the topic of my research paper in Modern Poetry (c. 1983?)  as I work on my course outline for Modern Poetry...How the mind does go to and fro! The poet is made the occurrence of the poem, not the other way around.

All this, and a Ferris wheel as a symbol of these vertiginous times...

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memory
from
cloud
to
cloud
whistle
something
of
the
truth