Today marks the 13th day of National Poetry Writing Month.
An invitation has been extended to poets to ‘stop and smell the roses’. To celebrate and practice their craft by writing a poem a day for the whole month. There will be prompts from NaPoWriMo and poetry writers have been asked to submit their sites and blogs if they wish to participate.
I’m giving it a go (?!%|>**) and so for the next month I will be posting a poem a day here at Wonder.Meant.
This morning I woke early to take myself out on a date. I had had the feeling for a few days that I needed to spend, at least one morning soon, filling up on the things I love in a quiet, slow way.
For me this is a meander through a market, buying myself fresh flowers and coffee, and chatting with stall holders about their wares – antique treasures, soaps, books, old clothes or home grown produce. I took myself to Campberwell Markets by 8am and left smiling, arms laden with at least one or two of all the above items.
The outing has done the trick. I feel more in my body than I’ve been in awhile. I have been so stimulated of late by conversations with friends and strangers, my work at Scienceworks with children and an amazing bunch of artists, …with books that seem to speak to me directly and in encounters with the Wheeler Centre and my beloved (he really has a wonderful brain).
I wanted a morning where I didn’t really have the opportunity to think or to talk (the latter I admit finding hard to resist. Particularly when given the opportunity to connect with strangers at the market); and to see what came up when I settled into myself. What do I need next?
What finds me when I am my best self can sometimes be challenging (knowing that the next step that has to be made is a sort of leap) …or sometimes lovely. Today it is …lovely. Thoughts drifting to the aforementioned ‘beloved’ and how much I’m looking forward to seeing him tonight. It’s a nice thing to feel hungry for a partner.
It also brought me to a series of ideas for poems. One a day though, so one for now.
A retracing of steps already taken for you
when you could not walk on your own.
looking at gifts once given that do not service me
In fact, that
were never really something for me in the first place
something the giver should have known was for them.
I am free to
gather for my-self
I see from here
only with great delight and anticipation
how much I have to learn
And how very ready I am to choose what it is that will help my best self