Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Writing Is...

i haz a write  2 B hurd


Yesterday I was browsing blogs I've neglected to visit for a long time and saw mention of a meme on West of Mars in which one is to fill in the blank: Writing is like ______

Well that stuck with me over the next several hours as I worked at the sorting and packing of my crochet projects for Sunday's trip. Several possible answers came to me as I mulled and mused. I was drawn to listing them and soon I was writing a poem. The first one in ages. I can't even remember the last one.

Apparently in the space between reading the blog post and starting to write I had lost the word 'like'. After returning to Susan Helene's blog for the link I noticed that and went back to my poem to insert 'like' before each verb int he first line of each verse but it changed too much in several cases--the rhythm, the meaning, the immediacy. So I left it as I wrote it.



Writing Is

Writing is dreaming,
taking you away to other
where, giving glimpses into
that expanding vastness that
is your spirit.

Writing is grieving
for the lost ones, the lost dreams
giving substance to memories,
recovering that sense of
your life's meaning

Writing is weaving
words of golden wisdom from
all your pain and joy to find
hope, like a nova, in the
palm of your hand

Writing is dancing
on fluffy dandelions
spreading their seeds among weeds
whose proliferate leaves ooze
a healing balm

Writing is pitting
your own self against your self
daring to face the challenge
of giving all that you are
without reserve

Writing is looking
deep within the beating heart
of your dankest self loathing,
dissipating its fog with
reason's bright light

Writing is seeking
a knowing of the other
and a quest to be known
by someone acknowledging
you as worthy

Writing is exalting
in the heat of creative
passion that brings forth out of
nothing but thought and yearning
a new being

Writing is journeying
far from the familiar
greeting yourself in the eye
of the raging storm that is
your own desire

Writing is questing
with the heart of a hero
for the prize in the depths of
the pulsing shadows guarded
by fierce dragons

Writing is yearning
for a world of wonders
of mystery, of power, of awe,
which is not to be had lest
we dare chase it

Writing is streaming
the mind of the universe
bringing the brilliant spinning
galaxies circling in a
baroque gavotte

________________________

Now back to the packing. Though not for long as I've had two hours of sleep since Tuesday afternoon. I'm determined to avoid leaving her Sunday morning having already been awake over 24 hours as is my habit. I can't afford to as my sister is leaving town on Monday morning which puts me on duty with Mom only twelve or so hours after I arrive.

0 tell me a story:

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