in this moment {an invitation}

 

a backyard deep breath

in this moment, i am leaning toward all that is to come while letting go with each breath.

*****

an invitation: go outside with your camera and take a photo of this moment (perhaps a self-portrait even). and then, finish this sentence: in this moment, i am...

then, share on your blog or flickr and then come back here and tell me all about it (share your link or your experience).

dare you.

brave. know. love.

breathing in . alki beach self-portrait

i am the tumbled dusty pink scallop shell

i am the whispering knee-high indiana fields

know, a new soul mantra in the shop

i am the tucked inside your pocket talisman

i am the moment she said yes

i am the sunset-streaked wave

this is me . alki beach . photo by jon

i am resting inside truth

i am walking through laughter

i am twirling inside what my heart knows

i am . brave, a new soul mantra in the shop

i am brave

i am hope

i am love

love, a new soul mantra in the shop

*****

these phrases are whispering, no, singing inside my heart on this day.

i am hope. i am brave. i am twirling inside what i know. i am love. i am...

in this moment...who are you?

i'd love to know...

twirling inside

the plate of the car in front of diane, susan, and me at barnes and noble sunday evening.

i spent the weekend twirling inside friendship, community, and words, lucky enough to spend an afternoon with a friend then an evening with two goddesses and a day writing and listening to poetry and another evening of laughter, words, and truths...

i. love. poetry.

i took another workshop with susan wooldridge. when asked why i was there that day, i said that taking her workshop last year helped me to find another layer of my authentic voice.

yes. yes. yes.

some words i wrote on sunday:

i am a baby blue fifth chakra'd studebaker convertible
i am the fourth from the landing brown-carpeted step on garland circle
i am ignored red lips stroking your hair
i am tangerine fringe tickling the top of her silver damasked living room
i am the comma following the disappearing, webspinning secrets
i am the coocooing echo
i am clutter
i am mending

diane begins the workshops she hosts in a small one-room"house" on her property. we sat in a circle and the air seemed to crackle with all that was about to happen in a little workshop filled with words as people shared why they were here and a bit of their hopes. the sacredness of a circle of women. in this case, women i had never met until that day. i am ready to go back to diane's for a workshop as soon as i can. (you should join me.)

susan invites such a sense of safety and openness in her workshops. listening to the words of others is partly what makes the experience feel like such a sacred one. all day monday, their phrases kept running through my mind. such beauty and truth in their words. you can get to know a person you have just met by listening to their response to prompts like: "i am" "my soul says" "i know" "my mother says" "write one line about the prom"

fantastic.

i. love. poetry.

in just a bit, after i finish packing and somehow complete one more load of laundry, i will leave again. this time i am headed to artfest.

another opportunity to twirl inside friendship, joy, beauty, words, color, community.

i am blessed.
so very blessed.

today, i am sending you, yes you reading this, love, peace, and poetry.
and i invite you to go read a poem. go on. then come back here and tell me about it.
i dare you.

blessings,
liz

PS if you have sent me an email recently, sorry i have not replied. i will when i return. thanks for understanding.

postcard from indiana (two)

Front:
The reaching, soaring Lake Michigan-grey wing of a great blue heron.

Back:
I am pirouetting in midair
I am stillness within the light
I am the harbor of spirit
I am folded into darkness
I am beyond what is known
I am strength
I am wind
I am fragile
I am unburdened

i come to the water

more poem notes (or maybe an early, early draft of a poem) on this thursday...

I come to the water
to breathe in
salt,
hope,
shadows
I come to the water
to remember
her laughter
I come to the water
because I fear
forgetting
everything
I come to the water
to open
a space
inside me
I come to the water
to find
pieces of the past
I come to the water
to grieve
I come to the water
to let go
I come to the water
to seize life

head on over to jillypoet's for another thursday of the traveling poetry show...

i almost...

Carolee is hosting "The Traveling Poetry Show" today, so please visit her blog to read her post, find out next week's prompt, and visit her comments to link to some posts about poetry.

*****

Yesterday, thinking about the idea of fear that Delia posted as the prompt last week, the writing prompt "I almost" sprung to my mind. I wanted to just write and write all that came from thinking about that phrase. Fears can spring from that word almost. The following phrases aren't current feelings necessarily, just thoughts that came to me as I wrote for several minutes without stopping or editing (much):

I almost

Sat until I couldn't feel
Closed my eyes to truth
Got in the car and never looked back
Quietly allowed the world to happen around me
Believed that things just seemed to happen to me
Stayed in a belittling, suckerpunch-filled relationship
Wished it all away
Felt so much envy I forgot me
Stuffed anger in until my belly bloated
Forgot to remember myself
Slept my way to stagnation
Thought I didn't have a tribe
Didn't believe someone could change
Didn't own all of it
Didn't allow for possibility
Didn't dream of something breath taking
Lost my footing

And from this free writing came the following little poem of sorts:

I almost slept
my way to stagnation
but instead
I swim inside
possibility
balance
and breath

my heart carries {poetry thursday}

sunset at cannon beach, taken by jonny

my heart carries:

the sound of the birds chirping me awake
the first time i held my baby brother in my arms
the time my baby brother held me in his arms after our grandmother's funeral
the smell of hot apple cider with cinnamon
my mother's voice saying, "i am on my way"
the way our dog millie snores asleep next to me on the couch
the first time my husband said, "can i hold your hand?"
the feel of my childhood pink blanket against my face before i would fall asleep
the way a friend laughs until tears stream down her face
a moment witnessing my father's vulnerability
the smells of game day
the crocus as it peeks into spring
the first time eating corn on the cob after my braces were removed
the rhythm of my grandmother's voice saying "hello" when she knew it was me
moments spent watching the sky become a watercolor streaked sunset

***

letting go of the need for a genre (and thanking dana for that invitation), i am going to just keep writing poem notes. little pieces that appear in my mind that i want to grab before they slip away. i will keep them here so that i can turn to them as needed.

i come from {poetry thursday}

i want to share another poem i wrote at artfest in susan wooldridge's poemcrazy class...when i read this poem tonight, i was reminded of possibility once again.

*****

I come from
a land where Cinderella eats a
black apple and dances in
both her shoes.

I come from
a tree house city where I watch
forest elephants search for their souls
inside a purple sky.

I come from
a field of gold and pink dotted petals
nestled in the breast of the milky way.

I come from
a heron’s wing, a wooly fleshed
warbler, a chickadees spell.

I come from
a tiptoeing, still, winter home
where I wrap myself in
a blanket of stories.