Driving at Night

As the days get shorter, the child in me longs for the sunlight. Tonight I remembered how much I enjoy driving in the dark. Driving in the dark is when I am closest to my friends and family that died. They seem to wrap me up--buffering me from the unseen dangers in the dark. The dark reminds me of all the things I have accomplished in the day--or my life time and reminds me what I have left to do.

Where was the last time you let the darkness wrap around out. Where does it lead? Is it dangerous? Is it comforting?

Driving at Night

My heart leaps at the feeling of my brother beside me

laughing and laughing. his smile shadowed 

in passing headlights along the rolling hills

outside Bridgeport, Nebraska

I feel the weight of the car shift.

I steady my hand on the wheel

as my Grandmother joins us

I used to be the one in the backseat

Grandpa driving 45 down highway 26.

It meant that we stopped for breakfast

before we hit Henry on our way to Wyoming

Caution has a place.

Fear leads to haste.

Pride is allowed.

Sorrow is precious.

Tonight, my dear friend joins us

The undertones of sunblock

and something sweeter fills my nose

I smile. We've come a long way, and

we aren't finished yet.

She is ever the guide.

I was missing her tonight.

Smiling and crying,

I barrel down a six lane Maryland highway

like the wise moon will stop

waning and waxing and becoming new again.

The car is full. I am wrapped

in the arms of heaven

the on-coming cars are sharp and bright

in this well lit darkness, 

I'm whole and I am home.

Thursday Mornings

Even before I quit my job, I started picking up trash between the Jumping Bean's (JB) school and home. Thursday trash sweep has come to be my ritual and my contribution to the health and well-being of my community and yours.

This morning's sweep was full of fall blessings and the winter silence. For the first time in weeks, I felt a moment of elusive peace. I could breathe.

Where are you finding peace and room to breathe in the descending energy of the fall?

Thursday Mornings

cold crinkle of a bag between my fingers

there is me, the calling of the crows, and the stillness in the wind

dried summer foliage reveals last year's soda bottles,

on-the-go lunches, midnight parties--heard more than seen

An orange flash of cellophane winks at me from the fog-coated grass

my thumb meets its fellows and the dewed plastic

reminds my fingers that it's getting cooler on Thursday mornings

I stand for a moment to let the distant rush

of the morning pass through me

I breathe in the silent wind and let out my last breath,

until the next one comes with no thought of mine

the post-Halloween trail of sugar dreams

peeking out from the leaves. they wait for me.

squirrels run with the last of summer's bounty

afraid I've come for their breakfast. i only take what's left behind

Eager Fall

Chill lay like a blanket
Over the greening grass
and fading trees
The train calls long and slow
Out over the dark
Early morning travelers
fade though the early morning

Around the Clock

The Jumping Bean and I have been playing card games and solving puzzles together. Being seven is a new world for both of us. When I taught JB how to play Around the Clock solitaire (also known as "clock" and "clock patience"), I remembered playing it when I was about his age.

What games do you remember from childhood? What sounds, smells, or sensations do you remember when you played them?

 

 

 

'Round the Clock

 

Twelve o'clock Three

Three o'clock Seven        Seven o'clock Nine

Nine o'clock Queen        Twelve o'clock Six

Six o'clock King

 

A Jack winks on a dirty floor

Dishes in the washpan

Snakes in the outhouse

Grandma's musty comfort

 

Eleven o'clock Ace

One o'clock Four       Four o'clock Five

Five o'clock Ten       Ten o'clock Ace

One o'clock King

 

Cards slick and

Worn dull on the edges

King to the bottom

I want to win.

Ace

 

One o'clock Nine

Nine o'clock

 

Time to go.

Put the cards away.

 

Nine o'clock eight

Eight o'clock two

Two o'clock six

 

I want to win

Almost there

 

Six o'clock king

 

"Now, Julia."

 

Cards scooped up

Spades and diamonds facing

Hearts and puppy dog feet

Or were they teddy bear feet?

 

Dashed and angry

I lost again

 

And discovered

the last ace was missing

there was no winning,

I played anyway

 

 

Simplicity in Wonder (in Love?)

Really it's all this simple: Be curious. Be in wonder.

Done. Tada.

Today's poetry is a list of wonder. Not complicated forms or rhymes. Words. Simple words.

Wonder-list

Four swallow tails butterflies my nose to theirs

A snake sunning on a log

Frog squeaks and kurplunks

A leaf bug missing a leg

Green Dragonflies

A turtle eating a water lily

Blue dragonflies land on my leg

They have stripped wings

A dam washed away with the tide

A perfect reflection

The buzzz of a bumble bee so close he's fuzzy

Blue gill following me

Smooth river round stones cold under foot

Sharp shells poke my toes

Tiny yellow flowers bloom in the marsh

Grand blooms to tree fungus

Smooth roads, few cars

On a Sunday in August

What's on your wonder list?

Pictures Who Write Themselves (The A-B-C)

I promised the poetry that went with my collages...

Aversions

Feeding the Beast

Restless crowds gather feeding anger’s children

Baron tracks of desert breed striking beasts

The crowds cry for fight. The idle wait

A snake strikes.

Heroes backed into spiked cacti

Crowds heave, binding freedom

with the ropes of disappointment,

stabbing hope with rusted blades

The heroes hold. Faces skyward,

eyes closed to the frustrated masses

Treading sand, treading water 

The heroes hold

Passions & Gifts

Holding

Open hands, full harvest

Weaving blue, gold, and green

Fabric that holds space between

Death and growth

Growth and death

Only the flame of a match

Sets the sun to fire

The grapes to green

Only hands hold the circles

who scrap a shell on the stones

who rustle a cape of night wings

Lay back on the stones

Warmth at your back

The flame in your chest

Seen and almost never heard

What parallels do you see in the collages and the writing?

  

Check out the Writersvibe over the next few weeks for other exercises for un-stucking yourself.

Pictures Who Write Themselves (The 1-2-3)

I've been flirting with Cristine Mason Miller's book Desire to Inspire for several months now. She (and all the book contributors) have some great exercises and thoughts to help you move through your own creative process. Based on one of these exercises, I made some big collages to bring out some of my aversions and passions.

Aversions

This is how I did it:

1) Cut stuff up (I so enjoy this part!)
2) Make a pile of images you are drawn to
3) Make a pile of images that give you the willies or make you want to throw up.
3) Layer it up (I used 20x30 Foam board)
4) Glue it down
5) Put it where you can see it everyday
6) Write a phrase that comes up for you for each image (Don't put a lot of thought into this, just write it down)
7) Contemplate what the words reveal

 
For steps six and seven You might consider what led you to layer one image over another or why you chose to give each image its place in your collage. On step seven my phrases become poetry. I didn't struggle with or plan that, the darn things wrote themselves.

Here are a few passions I was able to put to work with the collages:

• Moving humans from a place of purposelessness to purposefulness 
• Using what already exists in nature (trees, rocks, sun, growth, seasons) to connect humans to gifts
• Connecting us to our gifts gives us space to move to a place of connection and purpose
• Bridging a connection to nature with human-enabled technology

Gifts

Stay tuned for the poems I created with these collages.

What comes up for you when you look at these images? What comes up when you take words out of your writing?

The Night Guards*

   

Armed & Headless

Wiggly across the night lit walls

“We are not silent,” they say

Their dark rustle keeps

creepers and peepers and buzzers away

Snuggle in.

Close your eyes.

Let the giants send you safe away

to dance in shade & day lights

Resting your back
into their sling-shot arms;

they catch the peach juice

dripping down your chin

*Thanks to JB for the prompt. He said the trees at night to Transformers without heads.

What do the trees turn into at night for you?