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I wanted a line in a poem to be the hollow ney of the dervish orchestra whose plaintive wail is a call to god. but all i achieved was awkward shrieking. not even the pure shriek of a reed in the rain.
-Anne Michaels
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I Wanted A Line In A Poem

Anne Michaels
I wanted a line in a poem to be the hollow ney of the dervish orchestra whose plaintive wail is a call to god. but all i achieved was awkward shrieking. not even the pure shriek of a reed in the rain.
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Rain Poetry Awkward

More From Anne Michaels

And what does the rain say at night in a small town, what does the rain have to say? who walks beneath dripping melancholy branches listening to the rain? who is there in the rain’s million-needled blurring splash, listening to the grave music of the rain at night, september rain, september rain, so dark and soft? who is there listening to steady level roaring rain all around, brooding and listening and waiting, in the rain-washed, rain-twinkled dark of night?
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Let the rain kiss you. let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops. let the rain sing you a lullaby. the rain makes still pools on the sidewalk. the rain makes running pools in the gutter. the rain plays a little sellp-song on our roof at night- and i love the rain.
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I keep feeling that there isn't one poem being written by any one of us - or a book or anything like that. the whole life of us writers, the whole product i guess i mean, is the one long poem - a community effort if you will. it's all the same poem. it doesn't belong to any one writer - it's god's poem perhaps. or god's people's poem.
Book Mean Long
What is sin? it is the glory of god not honored. the holiness of god not reverenced. the greatness of god not admired. the power of god not praised. the truth of god not sought. the wisdom of god not esteemed. the beauty of god not treasured. the goodness of god not savored. the faithfulness of god not trusted. the commandments of god not obeyed. the justice of god not respected. the wrath of god not feared. the grace of god not cherished. the presence of god not prized. the person of god not loved. that is sin.
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In the spring rain, the pond and the river become one. into every life some rain must fall. usually when your car windows are down. it raineth on the just and the unjust alike, but the unjust stealeth the just's umbrella let the rain kiss you. let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops. let the rain sing you a lullaby.
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The game is if the orchestra can hear each other, they play better. if they play better and there's a tangible feeling between the orchestra and the audience, if they feel each other, the audience responds and the orchestra feels it.
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