There’s Something About Poetic Writings…

There’s something about poetic writings that’s starting to strike me. When did it start? I’m really surprising myself now – first, writing, now poetry? I don’t know when or how or who I caught this from – this fascination for words arranged in such a way that it elevates the experience of reading.

I think I can trace it back to Annie Dillard. Pilgrim at Tinker Creek was probably the first book I read which had a profound impact on me. Reading it felt like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Her prose is vivid, beautiful, powerful, and comforting all at the same time.

Part of it, maybe, is what she writes about. But definitely the other part is the way she writes it. The way she weaves her chosen words. Reading them elicits this feeling of stumbling upon something profound. I wish I could write like her, and Thoreau, to which Dillard’s writing has been compared to.

If Annie Dillard was the one who planted this seed in my gut – this fascination for poetic writings – then Brit Marling was probably the catalyst of its growth.

Though not technically a poet by profession, the way she writes and tells stories is just enchanting. I admire her storytelling. She does it with such interest and feeling that it gets outside of herself and holds the people around her listening, captivated. It is with her words that made me see poetry in a new light. For I know that she is a reader of poetry, and where else could her writing and way of speaking stem from but from what she reads?

I never knew it could elicit such feelings. These beautiful writings. It’s another world. I am grateful and surprised for stumbling upon this path. And now that I have discovered this new interest, I think the only sane thing to do next, is to explore it.

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