The Muse

I posted a poem this week called "Before the Flood." The poem has its origins in an image of a single drop of rainwater creating a ring of small waves in a puddle. This image came to me in the form of a photograph published by a friend, Kimm Gaillard, of Gaillard Photography. He displayed the photo online a few weeks ago. I loved it but soon lost memory of it among the clutter of the day-to-day. I remembered it again at a time when I was feeling a bit like David confronting Goliath. I felt that my identity, my humanity, my desires, were insignificant when juxtaposed with all that threatens to swallow me up in this world. Suddenly I recalled the photograph and thought: "But even drops of water make waves." Thank you, Kimm, for the revelation that there is power and possibility even in small things.

Here is the photo:


Photo courtesy of Gaillard Photography

And here again is my poem:

Before the Flood

He loved me

With an antediluvian artlessness

Long out of favor in these smoky haunts.

He knew that mere drops of water make waves

And we would break against the crags

Of apathy and avarice, ever eroding the ugly

As disciples of the moon.