about

This is, I hope, where I will house what up to this point has lived in a number of places–Word files at work and at home, scribbles in a journal or on a scrap of paper, my head, the air around me, waiting to be perceived and captured.  Lines stuck in my head, breaks from daily reality that my heart forces me to take.  (I realize the name of the site sounds like a country song–that’s not where I was going with it.)

I do not call it poetry.  Not because it isn’t, necessarily.  But that word carries with it centuries of baggage and connotation that I do not know if will apply to what appears in this blog. Calling a group of words a poem might send you down a rabbit hole of meaning that I don’t intend and probably is not useful, either.  I would rather these words speak for themselves.  Res ipsa loquitur, as the lawyers say. 

For me, all of these are just found words.  I did not create them.  They just sat there, on a table, in a conversation, in the dead space between songs on a cd in the car, in a tree as I took my lunchtime run through the greenbelt, hovering above my bed during the surreal predawn hours.  Waiting for experience to which they could attach and take form. 

I do not know if anyone, save my wife, will ever see this.  But I need to write, regardless of the quality of the product, because articulation, for me, is how I discover what is going on wordlessly inside me.  Reactions to the world.  Musings about faith and what it means to be a child of God, a husband, a father, a friend.  Opportunities to wear all the black, white and myriad shades of gray.  And maybe a few drops of dew to refresh someone when they need it.

all found words © Kevin Reeve