Are you praying?

A few weeks ago I was asked by a stranger if I was praying. I’ve delayed the telling of the story while I waited to secure permission to use a poem. The permission never came, but the story is still rattling around my head, so here we go.

I was listening t0 the poem Animal Caution by Chase Twichell when I decided I wanted to memorize it. I transcribed its 10 lines to a index card and carried it around it my pocket. When I had time, I would pull it out and attempt to commit it to memory. I’ve done the same thing with a few other poems.

A few weeks ago, I took a lunch break in a parking lot near the factory I was visiting that day. I was sitting on the folded down back panel door of my truck, listening to some jazz while smoking a cigar. I had my eyes closed and was attempted to recall the lines of Twichell’s short poem. When I spoke the line, “Soon they will be constellations…”, a man interrupted me. He spoke Spanish. He asked if I was praying.

I was a bit taken back by the interruption, but regained my composure quickly. I answered in Spanish, “Yo no rezar.” He smiled and switched to English and said, “But I heard you pray.”

I explained that I was memorizing a poem. That it was an intellectual exercise aimed at bettering myself. He smiled and explained that he too enjoyed poetry. A moment later he launched into a recital of Not Fear by the Mexican poet, Rafael Guillen.

Not fear. Maybe, out there somewhere,
the possibility of fear; the wall
that might tumble down, because it's for sure
that behind it is the sea.
Not fear. Fear has a countenance;
It's external, concrete,
like a rifle, a shot bolt,
a suffering child,
like the darkness that's hidden
in every human mouth.
Not fear. Maybe only the brand
of the offspring of fear.
Read More….

I was stunned. Here was a gardener taking time from his lunch break to recite a beautiful poem in a parking lot of an obscure manufacturing plant somewhere North of Los Angeles.  It was a random moment. I was a complete stranger. Yet he was opening himself up to me in a way that was beautiful. It was an amazing experience.

When he finished, he asked if I knew any poems. I explained that I was just starting to fall in love with poetry and that I was working on committing my first batch of poems to memory. I showed him the four other poems I had in my pocket. We took turns reading them. When we had finished he told me that he had committed 20 poems to memory. Most were in Spanish. I asked him why. He responded with, “Yo no rezar”.

I think poetry can fill a void in people, much like working with my camera satisfies my need to create. Poetry is something I’ve been looking for for a very long time.