An Ode to the Smell of Wood By Pablo Neruda

I came across this poem, AN ODE TO THE SMELL OF WOOD, while researching the scent of sawdust for a short story. Seriuosly. Writers research ridiculous things.

Read it here with me.

This poem came to me last night and reminded me that you can find beauty in the most simple of places, everywhere if you keep your eyes (and noses!) open. The magnetic imagery of this poem brought up memories of camping under the night sky in Oregon and a childhood with a brick chimney in the main room, a polite stack of kindling and logs next to it. There's something deep about timber and building fires with it that this poem explores: Pablo refers to wood as "the heart cut from the earth" that reminds us how precious it is really is and how faltering our appreciation can be--even more so, though, how limited our perception can be if we don't live in the moment because if we miss it, we miss it: those moments "only one/ only one/ time existed."

I love the second stanza:

"The aroma was visible

as

if the tree

were alive

As if it still breathed."

Stay tuned for my short story that gives a shout out to Pablo's good senses.