The Poem

Nathalie Robert

Nathalie Robert

He had submitted
his poem for review
for inclusion in your
scholarly magazine

“I AM”

And that was all
it held of his poetry
Your editor thought
This isn’t poetry!

“I AM”

Yet all day all night
that editor could not
get the words out of
his stuffed`up mind

“I AM”

The next morning
he penned the poet
an acceptance note
of just two words


The following month
your magazine’s cover:
a photo of the cosmos
and simply the poem

“I AM”



About Peter Notehelfer

I'm a retired people person who now finds the time to watch the little details of the world without worrying about being watched by anyone . . . I live on an Island north of Seattle with my wife named Ellen, a yellow dog named McGee, a yellow cat named Gatzby, and four fine chickens . . . I read fiction, bake bread, smoke salmon, and fish whenever the weather allows . . . Oh, and yes, I try to write a poem every day simply to avoid senility!
This entry was posted in poetry and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

6 Responses to The Poem

  1. Cheryl Ruffing says:

    Wow! to this one, Peter. I’m reminded of C.S. Lewis, who wrote:

    “I don’t know and can’t imagine what the disciples understood our Lord to mean when, His body still unbroken and His blood unshed, He handed them the bread and wine, saying they were His body and blood…I find ‘substance’ (in Aristotle’s sense), when stripped of its own accidents and endowed with the accidents of some other substance, an object I cannot think…On the other hand, I get no better with those who tell me that the elements are mere bread and mere wine, used symbolically to remind me of the death of Christ. They are, on the natural level, such a very odd symbol of that…and I cannot see why this particular reminder – a hundred other things may, psychologically, remind me of Christ’s death, equally, or perhaps more – should be so uniquely important as all Christendom (and my own heart) unhesitatingly declare…Yet I find no difficulty in believing that the veil between the worlds, nowhere else (for me) so opaque to the intellect, is nowhere else so thin and permeable to divine operation. Here a hand from the hidden country touches not only my soul but my body. Here the prig, the don, the modern , in me have no privilege over the savage or the child. Here is big medicine and strong magic…the command, after all, was Take, eat: not Take, understand.”

    I must confess that I have not read the book this is from, “Letters to Malcolm: Chiefly on Prayer.” I recently read the “Take, eat …” part somewhere online and searched to learn more. I found that entire passage here: It looks like an interesting site.

    Anyhow, I find in your poem a new, succinct and successful metaphor for what God seems to want from us: belief and trust and love—all three of which should impact in some fashion every aspect of our lives here on earth.

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.