#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream
The river is enchanted by fog and by frost this morning. I stay out as long as I can, entering the landscape, breathing deeply, deeply into my belly to stretch out the kinks of anxiety. Wednesdays are a busy morning for me, as I lead my writer's group, and I must finish my prep and gather my materials. But, while I am in the meadow, the river, the woods, I am present. I have gotten up early. I have given myself this time to roam and wonder.
So, when I climb the stairs to our writing room, I am ready to create the space for deep listening, writing, sharing, risk-taking, caring for each other's creative process, as well as our own.
Today, this is the poem I have chosen to begin with, a prompt before silence, we read it in our circle, twice. And now, tonight, as I write, I realize a connection to my picture above, the one I love so much today:
"like a lover, your life bends down and kisses your life." Yes. This is what the tree seems to be doing through the fog, what it's showing and saying to me this morning.
“It Was Like This: You Were Happy
It was like this:
you were happy, then you were sad,
then happy again, then not.
It went on.
You were innocent or you were guilty.
Actions were taken, or not.
At times you spoke, at other times you were silent.
Mostly, it seems you were silent—what could you say?
Now it is almost over.
Like a lover, your life bends down and kisses your life.
It does this not in forgiveness—
between you, there is nothing to forgive—
but with the simple nod of a baker at the moment
he sees the bread is finished with transformation.
. . . ”
All photos and text ©Kelly DuMar 2018 unless otherwise attributed