God's Poetry

Fellow blogger Jude bought Notes from the Tilt-a-Whirl for me for Christmas. A few posts ago he slotted it in the #10 spot in his years best list. If this book keeps going it's going to be very high on my list for 2011. Here are a couple quotes:

"This ocean, tiny in the universe, is here because it's beautiful. This word, these words that keep surging and crashing and grinding against the contrast of cliffs, they are strong and guttural, like the taste of Anglo-Saxon. This is poetry, but it is not delicate and fragile, a placid ocean beneath a Bible verse on an inspirational poster.This poetry has testicles. It's rougher than rodeo. Which is why the cliffs are crowded with spectators."

"On the jetty, I turn for a final look. The storm is filling the harbour with sand. Rain drips off my hood and runs down my nose. My legs chafe as they shift inside wet denim.The ocean sprawls. At the horizon, the gray sky meets with the gray sea and the two become one, a seamless wall of storm. Closer, spray rises behind the lighthouse.
"Cold," I say.
Cold, God says. And wet.
The rhythms are rough. I am part of a line, one word in a collection chosen for this day, this scene. His salty syllables sting my cheeks, and He continues to speak—The beaches must be tilled, He says. The kelp beds have grown too thick. The cliffs need new holes. The cliff-dwelling rich needs new leaks. The seas have been asking to toss. The sharks need to fee small. The seals and dolphins are laughing. They always are. You could learn from them."Cold," my wife says. And we turn."