“This Poem Wrote Itself,” read by Marcia N. Lynch.
This Poem Wrote Itself
by Marcia N. Lynch
This poem wrote itself
With no intended plan
To show the hidden beauty
Of a loving hand.
Guinea hens’ dotted feathers
Are all arranged by chance;
No Knitter had a pattern,
It’s all just happenstance.
The twists of DNA
That cause your eyes to see,
The sighing of the willow,
Were not described by me.
The leaps of joy you feel
Touching plump and tiny feet
Are not the touch of One
Who longs for hearts to meet.
That melancholic song
Wasn’t sung by me;
You heard no secret meaning,
Just a random melody.
There is no hidden beauty,
No Love drawing you near.
This poem wrote itself …
And you believe that, dear?
About the Poet
Marcia N. Lynch’s experience as a storyteller comes from working as a children’s film editor and from having been written into the story of Christ’s redemption. She studied sculpture at Mount Holyoke College. Sculpting, like film editing, requires an artist to cut out anything that does not relate to the primary subject matter, and these two disciplines have honed her storytelling skills. Marcia lives in Arlington, Virginia with her husband of 38 years and has three grown children. She surrendered to Christ in 1975.
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Image is in the Public Domain.
