CHARLES DODD WHITE
EXCERPT FROM BENEDICTION
JANUARY 2012 - FICTION
Go to the waters to make all things new into nothing, to make found things lost again. The location of time is to be found within this slivering, this confusion of ice and current. The recognition of memory will be dug up from river bottoms, clawed free of the old burials, and you and I will coil like serpents in the tall grass, tongues seeking the truth of what we were and what we will become.
I knew the woods as a boy. They were my prophets. The language of elms and thickets filled my ears with their sly botany, and it was a song unmatched. I sketched these things and what they spoke, recorded the living shape of trunks, tangles and boughs. Met their divinity with my notion of them, poorly translated by the arts of charcoal illustration and sentimental verse. A poor artist, perhaps, but a sincere one. A simple but good instrument in God’s willing hand.
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On April 19, 2012 at 11:44 AM
Candi Sary said:
"Powerful writing. I really enjoyed this. "