NaPoWriMo 2019 – Day 5
Twilight
Again we sit around bonfire,
each one speaking of the pain,
the mess, and the joy
of Creation.
Giving birth to something that held
no breath until a moment ago.
Pushing it toward bright light
of life,
which might make it
whimper.
Then the slow bloom of bliss
traveling through blood
stream,
at knowledge that the task
has been, once more,
finished.
Elizabeth Crawford – 4/5/2019
Soul's Music 
It is so satisfying to complete each new poem, isnt it, my friend? I am so happy you are doing NaPoWriMo. I am doing the days that I can, not worrying about the days I miss. I am so tired this year. But am loving the reading!
Yes, it is satisfying. This is the time of the year when I remember what Robert Bly said to Bill Moyer, when asked about writing a poem a day. Moyer said he didn’t think each and every poem could be good, or satisfying at that rate. Bly replied, “Some days you have to lower your standards.” And I agree. Some lumps of coal become precious rare jewels, while others simply remain coal. But coal, in certain seasons, might become as precious as diamonds. Don’t worry about those days you can’t write, write on the days that you can and be satisfied that you did. Acceptance is also a precious commodity.
Love from the Hillbilly,
Elizabeth
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Yes! That slow bloom of bliss. Well put. Let’s hope it continues for all of us. 💕
Yes, Brenda it will continue if we allow it to do so. Each of us has, at some point, defined herself as poet. Voice for those who may not have, or be allowed such a definition by themselves or others. I once did a class with my sister and a group of her friends. I had them do several brief exercises and then write a poem. My sister’s was by far, the best of the bunch. Yet she never did it again. Perhaps out of fear of that definition, or maybe fear of stepping on my toes. She is incredibly creative, engages in all sorts of hobbies, but steers clear of this particular one. She’s asked me several times how I can remember so many details from the past. I tell her it’s because of all the writing I do. Each poem becomes my Cliff Notes, lol… Just another reason for continuing.
Elizabeth
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I agree, Elizabeth. And I like the quote about lowering one’s standards. I do that, often, just grateful to still be writing at all.
Yup, so do I Sherry. It always comes to mind during April. However, I would choose to change one word in the quote. “Standards”, suggests to me a narrowed path of rules and limited movement. I would far more prefer the word, “Expectations”. We have a tendency to expect far more from ourselves than others would. Expectations allows me a bit more breathing space, more room to move, and still allows me to be me doing this thing I love (sometimes hate) to do. And yes, this little experiment of writing a poem a day, has called me back into myself as nothing else could, or would. And for that, I am forever grateful.
Elizabeth
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Yes! Sometimes, birthing a poem can be as arduous, and rewarding, as it is to physically birth a baby! I love “the slow bloom of bliss!” What a wonderful line!
Thank you, Marianne. I have four children and remember the uniqueness of each birth process. Especially the one my father spent in the labor room with me because my husband was several states away for his job. We played cribbage, lol. And each new nurse or attendant who entered the room, would ask in surprise, “Are you the father?” And he’d look sort of disgusted (maybe because of the disparity in our ages), but calmly respond, “Yes, her father, not the baby’s”. That just makes me think that each poem, and its process is a bit different, yet in some ways the same.
Elizabeth
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Elizabeth,
“Bloom of bliss”, that is just perfect! Lovely writing, my friend.
Love,
Pamela
Thank you Pamela. I think we are all doing a great job and deserve a bit of applause. Just wish we could all sit down for a bonfire before we are finished.
Elizabeth
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It isn’t always easy, and yet sometimes, it seems in a rush to get out…sometimes I wonder about the whole thing…what am I doing? Yet, still, we write, be it ight or dark, in some ways it is always, the same. Loved the poem you write, about the end of the day, and the fire, some part we always carry with us, in hopes of starting another in each poem we write.
Yes, Annell I like to think that each poem I write, keeps that fire burning within, even though sometimes I have to blow a lot because the embers are cooling. This NaPo has seemed a bit easier than usual, perhaps because I haven’t been writing much, but have spent most of my time working through my Poetry manuscript. There are a lot of ways to keep that fire burning. It is eager for life and for living. Breathing helps it to do so.
Elizabeth
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