holes

Uncategorized Jun 12, 2019

In the pit of my stomach,
in my heart there's a hole,
an ache,
a fear that I've missed the mark.

To rest in Beulah
'til heaven's portal closes
is too long.

Lost opportunities are like the wind
tearing paper promises from the hands.

I thought I’d be so much more:
more effective, more acclaimed.

The perils of plenty and want
are both known to me.

If I’ve I let you down, I’m sorry.

I have failed to celebrate
the morning breeze, the pelicans in flight,
the dolphin's splash.

Ingratitudes are insulting.

It’s the hole of heaven
that the light shines through.

Liz McFadzean

In flight from Charlotte, North Carolina to Savannah, I saw this eerie sunset out the window of our plane. The immediate thought was, “It’s the window of heaven!” And so the genesis of a poem, of sorts. But the form of the whole (pardon my pun!) eluded me.

I’ve been reading daily a book by Tim and Kathy Keller on Proverbs, entitled “God’s Wisdom for Navigating Life”. Proverbs are neither promises or commands. They are too enigmatic to be clearly either one. The Kellers write, “A proverb is a poetic, terse, vivid, thought-provoking saying that conveys a world of truth.”

When I started this poem, I wasn’t sure what it was. It felt confessional and inspirational. But then I ran across a poem by Mary Oliver, a poet I love for her devotional tone and her accessibility. The poem is called “Leaves and Blossoms Along the Way” from one of her last volumes, “Felicity”. And it was structured like a series of proverbs:

“To understand many things you must reach out
of your own condition."

“Beauty can both shout and whisper, and still
it explains nothing."

Suddenly I had the structure for “Holes”. With some rewriting, this poem was completed, with gratitude to the Kellers and Mary Oliver.