It's just poetry, it won't bite

Why I Write


07.15.19 Posted in today's words by

Emily Koritz lives and writes in New Hope, Minnesota.

Why I Write
By Emily Koritz

I am writing to save my life, I said.
I said, I am writing to save my life. 
to escape it, or keep it whole,
two ruby slippers are this pen and this pad,
click them together and fly me back home.

I am writing for that sacred flame,
that flame warm and soft like slowly melting butter left on the counter of a summer’s afternoon,
that flame radiant like the electromagnetic field glowing around hearts pulsing in symphonic synchronicity,
that flame flickering from its good tether of a wick,
lapping the air with its subtly speaking tongue for all its worth,
for that benign inner being-ness, I write.

I wish to be, you know, a knight in the service of the majesty of that flame,
my King,
my Queen.
That fire in you.
That blaze in me.
More importantly, that one in we.
You know, in the service of that flame I wish to write, with devotion.

I write for all the years of silence, tongue tied eons of deafening muteness,
when I couldn’t speak love’s name for fear I might surely stutter,
either that or be obliterated.

I am writing for all those children with no name crying still inside my mind,
those children howling for me to soothe their hunger for consolation.
For those babies of the night inhabiting words both inside my mind and out,
I am writing like a bottle of milk given to my own infant self
so that I might one day grow up to mother the world
with thousand-fold kindnesses, million-fold caresses.
For that, I write.

I write for those dreams in my palm (two birds in the hand),
and those dreams out of reach (and one in the bush).
I am writing to save my life, I said.
I said, I am writing to save my life.

For all those truths I’ve shown up just shy of shy to greet/
for all the moments bittersweet/
for all the light with twice the heat/
I write.
In the desert of nonchalance,
underneath waterfalls of cascading laughter,
in valleys of despair,
and atop hills of sanctity do I write, have I written, will I write still yet
Flying over fields of green,
delving into the heart’s holy forests,
drowning happily in words’ sweet vanities.



One Response to “Why I Write”

  1. Charlene james says:

    So powerful, each line grows richer with need.

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