Alive in the Land of Poets

[image from trekearth.com]

In the land of poets,

Fireblossom is Queen
and Hedgewitch
Royal Scribe,
Poet-to-the-Queen
and Chief Collaborateur.

I read their words
in awe,
then retreat
to a dark corner
to quietly 
rend my garments.


I growl and mutter
to my Muse:
“Can you send me
an IDEA????
ANYTHING???????”


My Muse turns over
in bed,
and groans.......
"toooooo sleeeeeeepy!"
I poke her,
and hiss:
"I havent posted
a decent poem
in days,
and everyone is
Writing Greatness.
WAKE UP!"

Because I have to,
I keep doing
my poor scribbling,
stick scratching on 
my little slate.


Fireblossom sits
on the mountaintop,
tossing down brilliancies
upon the hour.
I sit on a bench at
the foot of the mountain.
It is now afternoon.


But.....
somehow,
in the reflected glow
of her brilliance,
my layabed Muse
wakes up,
begins to stir around,
and agrees that
there is still Writing
to be done,
let's just try to not let it be
Total Crap.


The fair Elizabeth
now shows up
in this discussion
just in time,
and tells me to
remove the word crap
from my vocabulary,
to stop listening
to my fatigue,
To listen to my soul
instead
and write to that.
She gives a gentle nudge
right when it is
most needed
and I cant argue
with the truth
of that.

I nudge my Muse:
"It's time!
I really really mean it.
We may not
write greatness
today,
but we can
write the truth
in the voice
that is ours.
While
we're still alive
I will be grateful
to be writing
anything 
at all."


I am rolling up my sleeves.
I am Getting Ready.
I am Plunging In.

Note to Readers:
No, the words do not flow as in days of old when they were a rushing torrent,
my fingers not fast  enough to keep up. But the words that come are mine,
sent out by a good, if exhausted, heart and true. I am happy to be alive this day and still writing.

And I am MOST happy because you are there, on the other side of this screen
this gray winter morning, my wonderful rich new world of poet friends, whose words shine their light on my soul and bid it step forth in return and answer the call of poetry.


My words will come a little easier and will strive to reach a little higher
because your eyes are reading them.


Bless you for that!