So intensely she sharpens them.
A warrior destined for battle.
Six wooden allies of escalating
darkness lie brave on the floor.
In scribbles, she salutes her life
of speech. Yet soon, with five pudgy fingers
she’ll learn–wedged between syllable and sense,
is the spell of what breaks and is broken.
This is child’s divine act of courage:
the first word misspelled.
–“Pencils”, Dinah Roma
Reminds me of Ken Robinson’s “Do Schools Kill Creativity?” talk. Especially the last stanza.
Creativity, after all, is nothing short of divine, one of those few and far between spiritual experiences that can coax the most stoic and boring agnostic into at least entertaining the possibility of a/God/s out there.
The problem with the world today is that it tries to give a specific term to every concept floating around us. This becomes problematic because our vocabularies have such a hard time keeping up. Therefore, we have people claiming to be agnostics and atheists, when in fact they’re only after, say, the oh-so-fallible-yet-oh-so-absolute churches or the oh-so-rigidly-prescribed-yet-oh-so-powerful-when-done-on-a-personal-level prayers. Combine this with any listener’s penchant for labeling people around them with whatever prior experience they have had with the term (never mind how much or how little), and you have a recipe for a miscommunicative disaster that is all the more disastrous in the sense that it simultaneously implodes inside the so-called atheist/agnostic and the listener, with each tumultuous implosion building up inside each person until their combined energy manifests itself in some sort of interpersonal explosion.
After all, who would not want to believe in creativity?