The Courage to Meander—The Writing Process Considered

This Sunday morning
In solitude, my mood
Is a thick, heavy plaster
Slowing my motivation down
Making movements sloppy guesswork
Through quicksand
Instead of springy
Precise intention.

Dirty dishes and
A refrigerator drawer stained
From leaking rotting vegetables
Bought but never used
Pile up in an oversized
Stainless steel sink
Congealing crusts on pans
From another night’s cooking
Floating there in polluted water…

On the sink’s rim
Wine glasses sit, cloudy now
From evening red wine concoctions
Swirled with cognac, lemon juice and
A splash of orange juice—
If only there had been some
Le Croix left too—
Waiting to be cleaned and
Put back up inside the glass cabinet
For another round,
Coming soon.

Now, Earl Grey tea
A gorgeously balanced cup
Bitter black potency
Lightened by my adding
Generous amounts of milk and honey
Steams in my hand
A mellow beckoning to
Start my day,
Running late with the time change,
Instead of coffee
To jolt me alive.

At least I can say that
Yes, I’ve been taking the time
To write regularly

And am thankful that
I possess this degree of
Inspiration and courage
To meander—
To open and organize
Rusty mental cabinets
So crammed with cryptic chaos
That aspects of internal jumble
Tumble out
A ruthless deluge at times

To categorize and
Reconsider Memory
Name, outline and hone
Emotional abstraction

Fashioning words together
An imaged, painstaking process
Becomes a gift to myself
My heart
And mental well being.

Admittedly, the dicey,
More malodorous parts of life—
The hurt, anxiety,
Frustration and anger make me
The best writer I can be,

Surging me forward
With a fueled necessity
To pen expression
Mottled and desperate to get out
Though joy, love and gratitude
Also serve as willing,
Hand holding assistants.

At least there is some reason
And fringed benefit to suffering—
The spur in the ribs
To create
Finish and then
Have in my possession

A most uniquely crafted and telling
“Body of work” delineating
Heart and mind phases
Arcing across time,
Through Place and People

Carrying me through
Family goings on,
Personal and professional
Disappointments and setbacks,
Loss, gains,

The totality of Being
Impressionistic sketches
Dabbed forever.



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