This week's idea at Poetry Thursday spoke to me for many reasons. I love the idea of bringing poetry into the every day moments of our lives. To allow ourselves to stop being afraid of poetry (if that is the case) or to let others in on our love of poetry. Carrying poetry with you and sharing it is a beautiful thing. Even if you share only with yourself. To know that you have these special words along for the ride of whatever is before you. I also loved this idea because it was perfect for the hecticness of my life. Meaning, I haven't had time to write much lately, but I appreciated the invitation to stop and take a breath and read a poem that I love (thanks Lynn).
Because I am spending most of my time with my laptop attached to me, I decided to electronically bookmark my poem and click to it every now and then as I worked. And I have done this over the last few days. (I have to admit that I like the idea of actually writing out the poem and putting it in your pocket. I want to do that soon too.) Because I have felt a bit melancholy, I wanted to turn to someone who would fill me up a bit. And this person continues to be William Stafford. The words of his poem "Sending These Messages" have been like balm for my aching heart this week. They have been a reminder of why I write, why I read, of all that poetry is for me. You can read it here.
I haven't mentioned the exciting news that earlier this month one of the women I work for hired me full time! So I am still editing from home and taking on some freelance projects, but I will have steady work from now on. This is a fantastic development for me (and I won't go into how excited I am to be working for her because she is a woman with integrity and is so honest...I don't want kiss up or anything but really I am lucky).
However, my time has been a bit stretched with summer and weddings and other things going on, so I am feeling a bit disconnected from things other than editing. I found out Monday that the yoga studio I teach at is closing. Now. So last night was my last class there (I will still have my community center class) and I already miss my regular students. It has been a very odd few weeks. And spending the weekend with family, coming back to a project that has been a bit crazier than expected, and the closing of the studio has just added to it all. As I mentioned in a previous post, this family gathering was the first one since my grandmother's death. And this weighed heavily on me. No one talked about her. It was so odd. I miss her deeply. I wanted to talk about her. But it was a wedding weekend and not about this. I get that. Still, my heart feels a bit depleted with it all.
And my husband knows this.
So last night, when I came to bed in the middle of the night because I was working late, I found a book of poetry on my pillow with a love note.
Tonight, I opened the book and read these words:
And I am thinking: maybe just looking and listening
is the real work.
Maybe the world, without us,
is the real poem.
From the first section of the poem "From the Book of Time" in Mary Oliver's book The Leaf and the Cloud.
This is the year I have been given the gift of poetry.