Somehow we must see
through the shimmering cloth
of daily life, its painted,
evasive facings of what to eat,
to wear? Which work
matters? Is a bird more
or less than a man?
*
There have been people
who helped the world. Named
or not named. They weren't interested
in what might matter,
doubled over as they were
with compassion. Laden
branches, bright rivers.
*
When a bulb burns out
we just change it—
it's not the bulb we love;
it's the light.
"Seeing, In Three Pieces" by Kate Knapp Johnson, from Wind Somewhere, and Shade. © Miami University Press, 2001.
In her notes the poet dedicates this poem to the life and work of Joseph Campbell.
Art credit: "Fold Crumple," monumental sculpture of metal bottle tops by Ghanaian artist El Anatsui, photograph courtesy of the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston MA.
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