In the middle of the night
when your companion is the tick
of the second-hand
– and your heart beat
In the early morning hours
awaiting first light
so still in the house
– too quiet
In wait for the coming of storm,
be it thunder, hail, snow squall
– or a brewing wild within
Midst scheduled days or days unfettered,
in calm or angst
with joy or grief,
– take up your pen and paper
And in keen or chant, praise or lament,
in raised voice or sultry whisper,
(remember this)
– all is sacred and profane
Cast spell and benediction,
turn your words into phrases
and phrases into lines
– invite unruliness and ecstasy too
Take up your pen,
invoke madness or muse
Take up your pen and write
– then, poetry emerges.
There will be poetry and mandalas, contemplative photography and more. The Contemplative Creatives Journey begins again on December 15th. Join me?
