Sara Teasdale Spoke to Me
She said nature.
She said love.
She said pick up the damn spoon
and stir.
Your thoughts are thick on the bottom
of the pot.
Stop running from the emptiness.
Walk in.
Fill it.
Be.
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It's been nearly a year since I posted a poem. I don't think I've written more than three in all of 2016. It was a year of deep emotional pain, a quagmire of change I found nearly impossible to wade through. As many of you do, I'm sure, I frequently use poetry as a tool for processing such things, but I couldn't.
It was a frightening thing for me.
Last night, I was mourning a bit and I listened to a audio book of Sara Teasdale's poetry. It was so beautiful. Hearing it read was a balm to me. She gave me courage to write again.
Here is my offering.
