words
words written on a window . susan wooldridge workshop . fall 2010 be present retreat
(steal a few and write your own poem. dare you.)
A year ago, I was in the midst of the Fall Be Present Retreat while being days away from Ellie Jane's open-heart surgery. A year ago, I sat in a room in Frog Creek Lodge surrounded by so many souls living with their hearts wide open, souls who would teach me so much, souls who would become friends. A year ago, a dear friend came along on the retreat to support me and take care of Ellie Jane. A year ago, I had no idea what the first few weeks in October might bring. A year ago, I wrote these words during Susan Wooldridge's poetry workshop.
*****
parched bones
outside, i am a tree's sturdy blueprint
inside, i am a swollen canyon of january choices
outside, i am a balanced seasaw of chocolate happiness
inside, i am shattering, shifting parched bones
outside, i am a mute, screeching fire
inside, i am sunlight's twirling laughter
inside, i am breath
i am space
i am light
*****
I am over here getting ready for Create Magic, the last Be Present Retreat this year. As I was bustling about a few minutes ago looking for safety pins in the random places they might be hanging out in this messy wondrous house of ours, I came across this poem written on the back of a page from a draft of one of Susan's writing projects. It was tucked in a drawer that was also housing receipts from 2009 and 2010 (don't tell the new accountant), adorably small pink tags I used for price tags when doing craft shows a few years back, polka dotted ribbon, a scale for mail, random bits of tissue paper, about $10 in change, safety pins, and a few other "why do I still have this?" little things.
And before I head off to bed, I just really need to tell someone this: I love poetry. Big.
poetry in write, write, write
Reader Comments (6)
i love susan wooldridge! i'm trying to run a writing circle from her book on campus, but have yet to get anyone to come and i feel so clueless. i thought that book was life-changing. i love your poem.
Liz, wonderful to see our window wordpool on your blog! Remember this poem, and the tense and yet gracious time before Ellie's surgery. Delighted to see your poem again. Chelsea! send me an email (suegwool@gmail.com) and we can chat.
Love from my hillside perch south of Chico xoxoo Susan (see you back at Frog Creek in mid march) xoxo
Much love to you and your journey. Glad to be a small part of it. xoxo
what beautiful heartfelt words. xo
parched bones. how i love this.
xo
Your words take my breath away.
Beautiful