From the purple majesty of her steadfast mountains,
to the seasonal greens that cover her hills and valleys,
to the rippling blue motions of her rivers, lakes, and oceans, Mother Nature is always there. Always aware of those who with eyes wide open seek out her myriad faces, in hopes of invigorating their owned creativity.
Elizabeth L. Crawford 9/9/2021
Notes: All three of these designs were created from the same pen and ink doodle, with the aid of my kaleidoscope app. I decided to color them with some of my favorite hues, only to have these words start singing in my ear while coloring each of them. Have to love it when one aspect of creativity informs another.
Dreaming of that day When the world slows its spinning Long enough to see Own incredible beauty All human souls rejoicing.
Elizabeth Crawford 5/29/2021
Notes: Got a notice that KT had put up a new poem. Went to see. It was a Tanka and she explained it’s origins and structure. Had to try it. “(Note: A tanka is a form of Japanese poetry made up of 5 lines containing 31 syllables. The 1st line has 5 syllables; 2nd, 7 syllables; 3rd , 5 syllables; 4th , 7 syllables; 5th, 7syllables. It can have any theme.)”KT’s site may be found here: https://ktworkmancom.wordpress.com/2021/05/29/tanka-1/
Image is one of my designs, made with the kaleidoscope app and colored by me.
Am looking for a poem, a place to call home. Where words fit feelings and don’t send me reeling away because they lack any reality for this place in which I live.
This place to which I’ve given my soul in this constant search for wholeness. A world apart from all others, yet holding a heart that continues to beat to its own peculiar rhythms.
Giving what it can and sometimes what it can not, because that is what it learned long ago, is essential to living fully. Always seeking those words which often fly away like birds to another place, much like me, seeking that one face they might call
Elizabeth Crawford 5/8/2021
Note: Written simply because I promised myself I wouldn’t stop after NAPO. Image is one of my designs, colored, and titled “Between Daylight and Dark”.
Here we stand together on Lucille’s bridge, caught between star-shine and clay.
This current quest ends today, but tomorrow we continue. Waters of life keep flowing and we will go with them.
Through peace or turbulence it makes no difference because we have found that very thing for which we have been seeking.
It has brought us, once again, that simple joy and wonder to be found in being one who breathes, and is
Note: Sherry gave me the word “bridge”, and I knew immediately that I would go back to Lucille Clifton’s birthday poem. But then got sort of stalled with a hundred different ways, or paths, I could take. Went searching through my files, here on line, skimming through my past Napo journeys. Found the song and knew it was exactly what I needed. And it was. Listened to it and knew right where I was going.
I haven’t written any poetry in the past year. Too busy finishing and editing my almost 200 pages of “poetic memoir.” I was very hesitant to begin this year and it shows in those first pieces I wrote. It is a most amazing, and humbling experience to be a writer/poet seeking to hopefully find her own voice.
As this current journey nears its completion, am reminded of the runner who must be trained to quicken his pace or risk loosing the race completely.
The mind can be a funny thing, often heeding a familiar bell, rather than that one which is needed.
When that runner sees what is called “Home”, his mind will tell him that it is time to slow down, the race is “finished”, when it really isn’t.
So he must be trained to quash that primal urge, and reach for another spurt of energy that will take him over and beyond that so-called
Elizabeth Crawford 4/29/2021
Notes: Image is another of my designs, colored and liked by others. But, I have always known that it could be improved with a few changes. Changes I have failed to create because of those other opinions. Just like that runner, I’ve fallen to “good enough” rather than my best. This yearly Journey has shown me something very important. I need to get back to writing poetry. the kind that I am good at.
Note: Image is a newly created design which I colored. There is a story behind the words for today. My partner in crime, Sherry, gave me three words instead of the usual one. I really like playing with words, and the first thing that popped into my head was the question you see. So it became my post. The easiest one in this seemingly endless month of April.
Little One, yezterday you zaid that you had a partner in crime? Doez that mean that you have been doing zsomezing illegal?I know that it haz been zome amount of time zinse we have zpoken, zshould I be worried?
“Oh Heth, no. It’s just a figure of speech. It simply means that we are working together, helping each other, to get through this difficult month of writing a poem a day. Something, I think, only people who might be a bit insane would attempt to do.”
And doez that mean, you think you might be crazzzy?
After a soft bit of laughter, “Well, that answer would be both yes, and no. It’s a lot of work and time, and no one gets paid a salary for doing this. It is done by anyone who loves poetry and the writing of it. And seeing as I have been doing just that for well over half of my life, I am one of those people. And, by the way, there are definitely others who would adamantly say I must be a bit crazy for writing it at all.”
Again, I do not underztand. You do it well, and have even been given, how to zssay, awards for your ability. Why would anyone think that might mean you are mentally unbalanszed for doing this thing you are good at?
After a bit more laughter, “Because there are people who perhaps think that poetry is a foreign language? Don’t begin to understand it or even the reasons why someone, like me, would be involved with it at all. They don’t find any personal value in such things, and rather than try to understand, they assign a negative value to it, and simply walk away. And that might be one of the biggest and best reasons I do this crazy thing every year.”
“For a thousand different reasons. Poetry, when I started, seemed to bring me to life. Gave me a voice, that others could hear and possibly grow from that experience. Believe it, or not, I used to be one of those people who thought that poetry was a closed-up cloister, to which I could and never would find admittance. But once I was offered that key, and entered that closed door, I found a solid rock on which to build the rest of my existence. So, if my words, simple as they are, might awaken another to other possibilities, I will continue to do it, for as long as I am able.”
Oh, Little One, that attitude iz the very reaszon why we dragonz have named you, Dragon Woman.
Elizabeth Crawford 4/27/2021
Note: Image is a free coloring page, I found, years ago, on the Internet. It didn’t specify who the Artist might be, so I don’t have that information to offer. It was done in simple black and white. Months ago, when I decided to haul out my coloring pens and get into that activity again, this image came up, and I decided it would be the best place for me to begin. Heth is the dragon who occupies my rather active imagination. She is bright red, and in any small light, her scales flash a golden sparkle. Her given name is Marananthaheth, but I call her Heth, because she told me that single breathed out syllable means all things dragon.
And if you are at all interested in the subject of “Dragons”, you can simply type the word Dragons into the search engine listed above, as well as the one on my prose site. I’ve done a bit of writing on the subject matter.