Earlier today, I came to an odd realization, how hadn’t I written a single poem for a year as of June 2013? Then I began writing again. What clicked? What muse left me for a whole year?
I did however begin this website. In some ways I suppose my muse was too busy writing articles and journaling. But how could’ve my last poem been “I Would Sing the Dance of Fireflies”?
So I went digging.
And all I could find was one single litany I had written for the Ancestors during Hallowmas.
This bothers me, even though I had written articles, and made art, I still hadn’t used my talents fully. Last year was a year of transition for me, I was creating a business, I had a new lover, I was traveling almost every weekend. Ultimately I was out of balance. Writing desperately to help others, yet now I see, I was writing so vehemently because I was hoping to pull myself out of the bog of the past. I thought I was over it. But truly looking back, I really wasn’t.
A year’s reflection, and that is what I see.
My hope is that through sharing this with you dear ones, is that you will ask yourselves the same questions. Are there talents that you are neglecting? Why? The only way to get out of your rut is to express yourself through that latent and neglected talent. Use it as a catalyst, I promise you it will speed things up a bit.
Poetry for me is my catalyst. It is that old world ability to put to words the human condition. Poetry is eternal. It is at once a painting, photograph, and sculpture of a moment’s memory. Out of every talent we may possess as writers, poetry by far is our blood put to paper.
There is immense healing from both reading and writing poetry.
So, in sharing with you this, I have also added a Poetry Archive at the top of the page sharing with you poems and quotes of my past. All future poems will be found in the Poetry Category to the right.
Now, it is a work in progress, so please don’t mind the mess of things. However, please, as authors, poets, and those who appreciate such things. Let me know which ones you like the most. I crave a dialogue with such things. But above all, I crave for you to be able to do the same. I have laid myself bare.
My poet’s spirit is free.