<Prompt 14: Write a poem of Exploration> This is yesterday’s poem–I was too tired last night to wait for my turn at the computer. I can’t get out of the fairy tales.
It doesn’t always have to be so,
but it seems to be the way things go:
When the sunny trail ends at that dead ash tree,
when the sweet-scented grasses turn to brambles,
when the radiant butterfly flits into shadows
and out from behind the tree pads the wolf–
That is when the story really gets started.
Epiphany can be those shiny angels,
those glittering kings bearing gold,
but it also comes in shadows and cobwebs.
One day you are sleep-walking
through your dreamy life,
not paying attention to where the path leads,
and epiphany comes in the form of a crow,
calling your name from the topmost branch
of a lightning-struck oak.
Or you find the sweet cottage
but wake up surrounded by bears
or tossed head-first into the furnace.
Or an old woman in tatters and rags
swoops into the clearing, chattering,
demanding to know who you think you are,
demanding your service, your heart.
And that’s the key, isn’t it?
Who do you think you are, meddling in this story?
Can you give your whole heart to the process?
What are you doing here, in the heart of this forest,
this landscape of your life?
What is your real name?
Are you ready to fight for it?
To go on a quest, answer the riddle,
do the three impossible tasks,
risk your own dissolution, your death,
just to claim it as your own?
You thought you were so brave,
following the path to explore the woods,
though you’d been warned,
though your skin prickled,
though you knew the stories
of those who never returned.
Now is the time for bravery.
Now is the time for fierce
Now the real exploration begins.
1. That gentle cooing sound my hen Sunny made when I brought her down into a cage in the basement and gave her medicine water. She has been stoically enduring whatever is making her sick, but she perked up a little when she found herself in the hospital cage.
2. New ventures. Taking steps.
3. This book: Nurturing the Soul of Your Family, by Renee Peterson Trudeau
4. The dream I had last night that brought back to mind another book someone recommended to me weeks ago, but which I had forgotten to look up.
5. My boys’ excitement at the wheat grass and lettuce shoots coming up in the pots on the fish tank.
May we walk courageously in our forests.