It might be said that those who laugh at beginners are afraid to begin themselves. But this fear is also a beginning.
It might be said that those who rush to lavish praise on masters of their respective callings and crafts, are not aware that these same masters understand that in the face of so much beauty and immensity they are beginners still, and feel this is natural.
It might be said that beginning, both collectively and individually, is our one abiding skill, and that our entire history is a record of our most memorable beginnings.
It might be said that ancient trees, rivers, oceans, and mountains are busy writing too, and that we are only one of the tablets and languages they use.
“And,” said one tree to another, “if the sky is a suicide note?”
Poems, Slightly Used, February 5, 2010