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Commentary
I am trying to capture my thoughts and impressions of moving into temporary housing after our home of 31 years was partially destroyed by fire. One night in friends’ houses, three nights in the home of a vacationing church family, eleven nights in a hotel, and—finally—moving into an apartment for the months to come…. It’s a recipe for broiled impermanence, for a taste of dwelling—but not indwelling.
Soon after we moved into the apartment, I reported maintenance issues to management. I had to wonder why the tenant who just moved out had not complained about an inoperable dishwasher, an obviously clogged dryer vent, and a stuck shower diverter. From the mail that continues flowing into the mailbox, I gather she was a young woman. Naturally, she would not have had the maintenance savvy and expectations of a 65-year-old homeowner. At my request, management jumped right on making repairs. In contrast, the young lady must have suffered in silence— living here, but barely.
Our relationship with dwellings can serve as a metaphor and extension of our relationship with solid, abiding truths. If we don’t inhabit them fully, they are vapid, meaningless, and empty.
THREE TRICKY THINGS IN THIS POEM:
1). The sixth line of the first stanza has a word—“ev’rything”—that is doing double duty. It’s the subject AND the object.
2). In the second stanza, I’m picturing the flat, minimally inhabited world as a magician’s flash paper. From an AI overview:
“Flash paper, also known as nitrocellulose paper, is a type of paper that burns quickly and completely, leaving behind no ash or residue. It’s primarily used by magicians for dramatic effects in performances.”
3). Conversations reveal one’s depth… or lack thereof. When a shallow person engages in serious conversation, their world is revealed to be as insubstantial as a magician’s flash paper. I am blessed with family and friends of a better sort. Recently, I got together with my friends Jim and Darol at a wedding reception. Our conversation plunged immediately into deep waters. You would never guess it had been months since we had last seen each other. We had been longing to talk with a friend about the interior life, about living in homes richly furnished for eternity.
(background image cropped from one by Gordon Taylor on Pixabay)