Today’s prompt honors one of my favorites, Mary Oliver. I was challenged to write a poem based on the natural world: it could be about a particular plant, animal, or a particular landscape. I needed to try to incorporate specific details while also stating why I found the chosen place or plant/animal meaningful.
Remembering our lovely day spent among the redwoods, I wrote about them because I will never forget the size of the trees, the wonder walking among them, the nail-biting drive up and down and around hairpin turns, and the stunning beauty brought with the rounding of the bends in the road.
of trees and song
sprawling, mossy overgrowth living velvet green reaching, knobby redwoods house romantic clandestine
whispering, spider and fly meet in secretive coves praying, tranquility hinged on majestic groves
breathing, peace settles as songbird melodies rise laughing, i throw my head back and join the chorus reprise.
This unique syllable pattern repeats for each new stanza.
And so I began.
Five different false starts later, I settled on “things”. Between cleaning my closet out while watching hoarders, and trying to get everything organized in the house before Tracy’s spine surgery, the topic seemed a natural one.
Why and how does junk continue to collect? Why is paper the bane of my existence?
I don’t know the answers, but I know that this poem is a good reminder to focus on what really matters. Investing in relationships is way better than investing in Amazon.
what really matters
things take up wings and fly into the tiny recesses of our lives, she guesses. now the tempest rising becomes
our tasting sour and bitter with each acquisition; caused by our own fission— multiplying all kinds of junk.
stop. don’t buy. drop your wallet and spend your time with people, not on the myth that buying things brings happiness.
Today’s prompt was to write a poem that begins with a line from a another poem (not necessarily the first one), but then goes elsewhere with it. Any poem will do to provide your starter line. Of course I chose a line from Mary Oliver’s newest work, Blue Horses.
Peace of God
Maybe the desire to make something beautiful is the piece of God that is inside each of us.
Maybe it is exactly the piece of God within us that longs for peace.
Maybe the peace that we long for is the divine sense of order trying to organize the chaos.
Maybe the chaos surrounding us is exactly what creates the desire for beauty.
Maybe I could be wrong but what of the chaos beyond explanation?What of bigotry and hatred?What of war and injustice?
Maybe as we connect with our piece of God to create beauty, maybe in that space is where we find peace.
The prompt today was easier since yesterday’s was so hard and required so much vulnerability and bravery. Today’s challenge was to write a “book spine” poem. This involved me taking a look at my kindle “bookshelf” and writing down titles in order (or rearranging the titles) to create a poem. I used the book titles in their original form. Can you count all the books? How many of them have you read?
If you’ve never tried writing poetry, today would be a great day to give it a go with this prompt. It was just plain old fun. I absolutely loved it! Post yours in the comments below please.
tattoos on the heart
bring a kind of just mercy to life–
a fine balance of purple hibiscus, yellow crocus and a wilder rose.
one thousand gifts
a pavilion of women the same kind of different as me.
release your sacred cows and
ride your blue horses.
at the corner of east and now,
i’ll sing you home.
Today’s poetry writing prompt was to rewrite a famous poem, giving it my own spin. Any famous poem would do. One of my favorite poets is Mary Oliver so I chose her morning poem which you can read here. This is my twist on it.
Under the blueblack
sky of twilight
stirrings of creatures
rousing from slumber
and stretching wing and leg
to welcome the stars begin–
like ninjas, like silent
warriors suddenly appear.
If it is your fortune
to be peaceful you
will pass quietly under the moon
for hours, your quick
wits and keen eye watching everywhere.
And if your soul
lies tender within
and feels fully the dangers —
if it’s all you can do
to stave the rising fear —
there is still
somewhere deep within you
a child crying to feel safe
and protected and loved–
each coo of a creature
caring for its young
is a song sung and answered
whether or not
you have ever dared
to venture into darkness,
whether or not
you have ever hoped
to be cherished.