enjambment
I’ve been slogging my way through a book called “The Wonder Paradox: Embracing the Weirdness of Existence and the Poetry of Our Lives” by Jennifer Michael Hecht. I’m not sure why it feels like a slog. There are moments of brilliant a-ha that keep me going and then times of “restful slow reading” (sleep). Plus the cover is beautiful and I DO judge a book by the cover. The chapter I just read is about Sabbath and rest. And the poetic term that she introduced was enjambment.
From Merriam Webster: the running over of a sentence from one verse or couplet into another so that closely related words fall in different lines
So it could be
That I write to
You from my heart and
Life, inviting
You to witness
Me as I witness
You.
Enjambment – in my very unprofessional interpretation is an unexpected line break – a pause or stumble that could be interpreted with confusion or curiosity. If you want to learn more about enjambment from a source that seems to know what it’s talking about you can go here: https://www.litcharts.com/literary-devices-and-terms/enjambment
In the book of Psalms in the Bible, there are is frequently a notation in the right hand of the column – selah. For all the research and study of Hebrew poetry, the most agreement scholars can come up with is that this is some kind of pause in reading or singing (Psalms were orally shared long before written). We don’t know how long the pause. We don’t know why the pause. Was it a measure? Many bars of music? Did it change each time?
I find myself playing with both ideas this morning. When in the next six weeks will I pause with marked intention? When will I break off in the middle of a thought
To attach a new observation
Or just to take a
Breath of curiosity to
Nurture my
Blood and heart.
When there is a pause, planned or unexpected, can we nurture a sense of curiosity and wonder in that space? Can we learn to observe and welcome the breaks instead of rushing to fill them?
I dare you to play. I’d love for you to send me your attempt of an expression of enjambment. Even if you take an already written poem or song and space it in a new way. I wonder what you will see.
And as we face the ending and beginning of the year, and we light more candles to battle the dark, and (in the northern hemisphere) pull our sweaters a little tighter around us, welcome the pause as a compass to see new things and celebrate the old.