Saw a pair of birds of prey fighting over the lot where I walk my dog. Graceful and fascinating. I really need to learn how to identify birds. One was smaller and white with a long tail white the other was bigger with banded wings and tail and a darn head. They inspired today’s poem.
Wow, we passed the three week mark and didn’t even notice. Someone somewhere once said it takes 21 days to make something a habit. Here’s to making poetry a regular part of everyday living.
On the subject of everyday living, this morning has found me contemplating geography, familial relationships, networking, and the relationship we as a people, arguably as a species, now share with technology. Information always at our fingertips. Platforms selling connections rather than services. Social networks. Businesses that span globes.
It’s all so amorphous isn’t it? No less powerful for it, simply different. Arguably more powerful for the sheer amount of connections and information we’ve enabled ourselves to have access to. How on earth could we explain this modern phenomenon to someone thirty, or even twenty, years ago? More relevant, less philosophical question: where are we going with it?
I love the rain. Even when it makes me change my plans like it did this morning. There’s something about it that’s inspiring and comforting yet powerful with potential. It demands welcome and respect. And that’s enough out of me. On to today’s poetry!
This one is slightly inspired by a book I’m working on. I’ve always got around a dozen things being juggled at a time it seems. There’s just so much to do, so many seeds of creation to sow. The creative in me cannot stop crying out “More. More!”
I have to pace myself or I’ll burn out and won’t sow anything. I think that’s why I’ve been on such a temporal theme kick with my poetry since starting this project. I’ve become almost hyper aware of the passage of time and just how precious it is. But this morning I celebrate creativity and imagination and let my inner pragmatist rest.
No excuses–yesterday’s poem was not a good one. Sadly, not everything I post here will be. Don’t I wish that were the case. The poem is messy, incoherent, and riddled with mistakes. While my thoughts and heart behind it were beautiful, the execution and result were decidedly not. That’s what revision is for, and with that revision, I think that yesterday’s poem has the potential to be something great.
This thought process is what inspired this morning’s poem. I think I did better this time. I’d appreciate your feedback in the comments if you have a moment to spare. Thank you for reading, by the way.
Without further delay…
Today is my father’s birthday. When I was little, we had a tree by the driveway. He would pick me up, put me in the branches, then climb up himself. There he would tell me stories and feed my imagination. There’s an argument to be made that he overfed it considering my career path. I wouldn’t have it any other way. This poem is for my father.
The Everyday Poet 