looks like the darkness has passed :)

Hello Friends,

I had a 3-month case of the yucks mostly as a result of losing faith in my judgment. I've come out of this realizing that I need a lot of things these days - to live on my own, to change my work schedule, and most importantly to trust my instincts again. When I'm underneath tough stuff I tend to shut down, cocoon and stifle my creativity. Today I happily report that I am feeling much sunnier. Here's part of the reason why.

My roommate and I were Meandering in our local Barnes and Noble this evening (yay Spring Break which equals a Sunday night free of work!) when I stumbled across Poetic Medicine: The Healing Art of Poem-Making by John Fox. I thumbed through the first few pages and decided that the book was just what I needed to begin writing again. After arriving at the apartment I settled in with my new treasure, read the first few pages and decided to give the first exercise a try. Here's the description (pp. 5&6).

Sacred Place. Imagine or recall in detail the place or places you feel most able to let your writing emerge. It doesn't have to be just one place. This place could be in your present home - or a home that you design to support your creativity. It could be an interior place shaped by your imagination or a spiritual realm you visit. Nothing is too mundane or exotic to name as your sacred pace. Workshop students say things like: the kitchen, a coffee house or a rookery where blue herons live and feed. What kind of objects are in your place? Things from childhood? Things from nature? What common objects are in this place? What other signs of expression of life are there? What particular vegetation, animals or people thrive there? What colors, smells and textures? What is the shape of your place? What feelings exist here? What is the quality of the light and dark in this place? Turn your acute observations into a poem of place, a place that invites your poems.

I am going to share my poem with you below. I am pleased that it is longer than the poems I usually write. I experimented with rhyme because my rhyming poems, with the exception of Gratitude, are usually silly birthday poems. I wanted to try non-silly rhyming. This poem is not an example of my usual free-form style. It has a definite form - 5-part double couplet (7-6, 7-6 abab) followed by a quatrain (4,4,4,4 ccdd). I think that I like it, mostly. I'm sure to fiddle with it over the next few days. I'd be interested to hear what you think. (That is if I have any readers left.)

A Writer's Ritual

Sunbeams are eyelash dancing
creating rainbow glee.

Joyful whippet is prancing
ahead, delighting me.

Ears are flappers,
toenails tappers.
Liquid eyes, doed.
Back legs are bowed.

We have no time for stopping;
muscles are in a groove.

My ponytail keeps bopping.
We really like to move.

Wise gnarly tree
must stop to see.
Grass – fresh and new,
wet earthy dew.

Mottled tree frog on the bank
of the glittery creek,

where the great blue heron sank
to hide from those who peek.

Energies flow.
Ideas sew.
Inspiration,
a creation!

Back home to incense burning,
cat purrs, window breezy.

Scribbles and page turning.
Time would make this easy.

Candle flicker.
Buddha snicker?
From shelf above,
a sound of love.

Type before the words are lost.
Starting to feel frantic.

Sanity could be the cost
if I start to panic.

All will be well
that I can tell.
Reminder: write!
It ends the fright.

Love and light ya'll,
mka