Christine Bienko

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March 2, 2026

Writing poetry is liberating.  There is a sense of relief when words land and make sense.  When the words sound right, the verse is free, the stanzas appear well fitted, and the meter slips into a perfect pattern.  Simply put, the words work and a poem has come to life.

I recently published a second book of poetry called Time Enough.  After two years of wrestling with the right words, nailing down a thematic focus, editing and revising, I was ready to let go.  Well, almost.
Margaret Atwood observes that editing is a rigorous process at every stage – right to the very end.  It often feels like authors are forever battling to save themselves from their own mistakes.  Are there inconsistencies?  Are all the dots connected?  Is the final outcome a matter of pride?  Is there a fluid and graceful execution?
How to end is huge.  It’s a crap shoot. I’m not sure that a perfect ending exists.  At best, It’s one that seems to fit.
It’s how you let go.
                                                               
Knowing When
I end with myself
the one I know best
the one that makes me laugh
the one that makes me cry
the one I love and fear
in equal parts
the one I search for
when lost
the one I reach for
when found
the one I need most
to see life as it is
and has been
it is the one who knows
when to let me go
in the end.

cbienko
Time Enough
 
 
                                                                         
 
                                                                          
 
 
 
 

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Christine Bienko

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Time Enough

Reflecting on life, change, wonder, loss, and the quiet search for meaning over time.
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