Above Jordan Pond

This inwardness, this ice,
this wide boreal whiteness

into which he's come
with a crawling sort of care

for the sky's severer blue,
the edge on the air,

trusting his own lightness
and the feel as feeling goes;

this discipline, this glaze,
this cold opacity of days

begins to crack.
No marks, not one scar,

no sign of where they are,
these weaknesses rumoring through,

growing loud if he stays,
louder if he turns back.

Nothing to do but move.
Nowhere to go but on,

to creep, and breathe, and learn
a blue beyond belief,

an air too sharp to pause,
this distance, this burn,

this element of flaws
that winces as it gives.

Nothing to do but live.
Nowhere to be but gone.


This Inwardness, This Ice, by Christian Wiman


Started off by sleeping until 8:00, which felt glorious. Later I bundled up and walked around Jordan Pond. After all the rain yesterday, the afternoon was bright and sunny, with strong cold winds. Seeing as the challenge for abstract Thursday was to make an image through some sort of transparent material, I got myself a piece of ice and polished it up with my gloves as I walked along. Of the various things I tried to capture while looking through it, this shot of the road came out best. Not that I tried too hard - it was not the sort of day to dilly-dally while hiking.