I am not planning to make a habit of waiting until the next morning to post.  But here you have it.  I am coming to terms with how much daily events and needs can take over the poetic process, even when I am managing some personal writing time each day.  I do not mean this as a complaint, just an observation–I feel pulled lately between the extreme neediness of a three-year-old and the writing of the poem.  My heart and soul are bound up in figuring out how to meet his deeper needs beyond the moment-to-moment challenges, and so what is left for poetry is my head.  Here’s the glosa from yesterday:

Be Melting Snow
“Be melting snow.
Wash yourself of yourself.
A white flower grows in the quietness.
Let your tongue become that flower.”  –Rumi

To pursue the path of the poet
apprentice your soul to nature.
Mark how she moves, moment to moment
dance her wheeling rhythms
follow the pathways of water
wander down to the meadow
taste the nectar of the poppy
listen for the scree of the hawk above you
stand silent in the shadow of the crow.
Be melting snow.

Be the thrust of the thaw
the clashing of ice on the river
the flow and the flood
the bursting of seed, the forces of growth
the blood: vitality, fertility, health.
Be the fire at the heart of the sun
the raging, whirling winds of summer.
Become the heartbeat of the Earth Herself.
Wash yourself of yourself.

Then let it go.
Be wide and open as the ocean.
Let the sky unfurl within you.
Be the whine of the mosquito
the whisper of an owl’s wing.
Be patient, forceful, fearless.
Be the dream of the trees
the secret hope of the sparrow.
Go into the stillness.
A white flower opens in the quietness.

Hold that perfect form
within your soul’s eye.
Unhitch the horse of your brain.
See it with your heart
with your hopes.
Feel the bud’s birthing power.
Long for its blooming.
Feel it quiver with wakefulness.
Begin to open, hour upon hour.
Let your tongue become that flower.

Prompt

Today I am going to write a list poem.  I like lists, and I like the stacking together of images to see what sort of house they make.  Care to join me?

Gratitude List

1.  Grandparents–the kids get a day to re-set after almost two weeks of quarantine and crankies.
2.  Spiders
3.  Stretching and yawning
4.  Radiance–what a marvelous place to spend a day!
5.  Sunrise.

May we walk in beauty.