Life So Real ~ Poetry: if only

Thursday, October 16, 2008

if only

there’s a sadness when new turns to old
when leaves glide from the sky and the air turns cold
dandelions still blossom, their vibrancy too bold
and the graying sky mirrors desires untold

amongst it all new life grows strong
fragileness protected because it doesn’t yet belong
waiting to break free to sing its own song
nudging and prodding, wondering if it will take long

just like the butterfly yearns to be free
to express and experience loves ecstasy
so confusing remains this duplicity
teetering on edge, if only flight could be

the journey of poetry

"...a spiritual journey is a lot like a poem. You don't merely recite a poem or analyze it intellectually. You dance it, sing it, cry it, feel it on your skin and in your bones. You move with it and feel its caress. It falls on you like a teardrop or wraps around you like a smile. It lives in the heart and the body as well as the spirit and the head."

Sue Monk Kidd
When the Heart Waits

the journey of words...

sometimes they come as a gift; the words flowing into my mind at odd moments and i'm forced to repeat them over and over until i can quickly write them down on scraps of paper. it's like they're so excited to be discovered that they write themselves and i am just the vessel through which they become manifest...

and other times it's like a game of hide and seek. they give me a clue, an idea, but the harder i try to find them, the more they elude me. they want to be found, but they enjoy the game. and so i wait patiently, catching glimpses of them here and there. Until one day, maybe weeks or months later, they are comfortable enough to come out of hiding, finding the perfect moment to create themselves...