Poems

Hey, I just found my book of poems.

We've been moving around so much the last year or so, its been lost in a box until today.

I needed to get creativity back into my life, but couldn't find the time or space or money or inspiration to do drawing or painting. So I decided to try writing poems, even though I never did like my writing.

I would try to write one every week. After awhile I really enjoyed it. I wrote about 15 before I packed the book.

These ones I wrote about trying to write poems:

A mind like cottonwood fluff,

taken by the wind to far-distant worlds,

and back again.

When I try to catch a thought,

like fluff, it swirls away from my fingertips,

leading me through meadows

where my passing stirs up other thoughts,

which also swirl away.

I spin,

trying to catch more thought fluffs.

Some I hold for awhile,

'til I fall - laughing and dizzy,

into the grass.

I watch as the fluff floats away

from my hands,

and into the sky.

Writing poems:

a challenge

I now tackle eagerly.

Climbing the mountain

with enthusiasm,

checking the nooks and crannies

for exciting dicoveries.

Reveling in the space

and freedom of movement.

Absorbing the colors,

their intensity and warmth and taste.

Always looking forward

to the next step,

yet enjoying the moment I'm in.

I'll have to try and do some more, now that we are settled in one spot for awhile. Funny how we ended up in the mountains. When I wrote these, we lived on the flats and had no idea where we would be moving to. I obviously had mountains on my mind!!