A Winter Poem, by All of Us L.A.T.vians

flickr, Sergey Gabdurakhmanov

 

Freezing sleet blankets the forest in crystalline magic.

Inside, the welcoming aroma of fresh coffee punctuates the end of slumber.

It’s hard to get worked up about anything these days.

And that very difficulty creates its own brand of trouble.

 

I imagine others bustling about, making work, closing deals, going, going, going . . .

I used to live that life, too.

But I just can’t any more.

 

Instead, my new Insurrected life demands a different pace.

It won’t allow me to worry about the future.

It insists I slow down.

And stay that way.

 

I’m still resisting this new pace, though.

It feels “wrong” somehow – dangerous.

But, try as I might, I cannot summon the worry to worry about it.

 

Every day I tell myself that tomorrow, I will get back in that game.

But every day, as the coffee brews, I know that I won’t.

 

Somehow, some way, this new pace is going to have to be “good enough.”

And so, I surrender.

Again.

 

One day at a time, I accept this new version of myself.

One day at a time, I abstain from worry.

Worry can only live in the future.

And my body, my work, my craft can only happen in the Precious Present.

 

And so, it seems to me that the work needs to be about staying here

Now,

With Beautiful You

And with Beautiful Me.

 

Blessed Be. Love, Jen

______

And now, for your part.  You get to write the next part of the poem.  So, someone write the first line or two of the next stanza.  The person after that please add on to their work. And, so on.

Photo: flickr, Sergey Gabdurakhmanov

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23 Responses to A Winter Poem, by All of Us L.A.T.vians

  1. Alice says:

    It doesn’t need a next part. It’s perfect.

    (I’m a former English teacher. I know these things.)

  2. Beth says:

    Alice is correct – no next part needed!
    Thanks for the reminder to abstain from worry and accept “good enough.”

  3. JJ says:

    Next line(s0:

    A season of gestation, a season of reception.

  4. Jennifer says:

    Long, heavy days pregnant with possibility.

  5. Lesley says:

    Ditto with the first two ladies. I write poetry and have done for many years so I can feel when something is finished. Also, any additions by us won’t have the same tone as you. Jen this is beautiful, please write more.

  6. Kathy says:

    patiently waiting the re-birth of life,
    on land, on high;
    in our lentened souls

  7. Lisa says:

    Awww, perfect the way it is…however I feel propelled to say the line by JJ and yourself in the comments above are BEAUTIFUL!!!!!

  8. Jeanette says:

    …but ‘perhaps’ has lost its power to move me,
    even as I continue to yearn.

    • Jeanette says:

      btw: I agree with the sentiments of the ladies above-your poem is stand-alone gorgeous…but I can never resist an invitation to play! thx!

  9. Erin says:

    Your lovely poem feels complete to me too. Great idea though for a communal poem – maybe start a different one from the top?

    Gentle with myself, I breathe in this moment.
    Kindness to myself, I breathe out.

  10. Donna says:

    Life is not meant to be raced from beginning to end as fast as we can.

    I, too, have been snapped into reality, forced if you will, to savor the moments that *are*, rather that worry about what “will be”. Look for the silver linings in the days. There is beauty everywhere.

    Exist, love, forgive, laugh, ponder and delight in a day or two. (or week if you must, or longer)

    We have forgotten to be human and we have forgotten that we are also divine.

    I laugh, because we must connect electronically from all that to learn all this. We all search for our answers. (We all can’t climb to the mountains to find the sages anymore)

    But we must disconnect from all that, too. We are so tied up in phones, TV, mindless drivel, we forget to just sit and center ourselves.

    That is the lesson.

  11. Tammy says:

    Sun graces the snow-capped mountains
    I see as I glance through my window
    I imagine it warms frozen ground
    As my coffee melts morning mellow

  12. Marcy McKay says:

    Disconnect from technology. Hibernate from the world.
    Winter offers us a cocoon to stop and be still.

  13. Kelly says:

    Yes.

    Let’s stay together, here.

    [Insert Al Green. If you're feeling it that day.]

  14. Seems like it takes
    half a lifetime
    to recognize that we too
    are animals, simple and profound
    who can’t buck the influence of the seasons.

    Sweet surrender,
    hug me in your embrace
    so soft and forgiving.

  15. Steph says:

    A time to rest, contemplate and renew

  16. Marie says:

    I believe you drafted something beautiful as it is. What a wonderful opportunity you provided with offer for others to add a line and make it even more meaningful.

    You email indicated you thought your poem was not very good – try not to think that way because as you indicate in your poem:

    “And my body, my work, my craft can only happen in the Precious Present.”

    Keep on crafting!

  17. Jeffi says:

    You nailed it Jen! No need for more, keep it simple.

  18. Stephanie says:

    Present in the moment, snow and ice all that I see
    Yet my eyes wander for the first flicker of green yet to be.

  19. Cheryl Dapsauski says:

    Took me a few days to look around for an idea:

    Don’t you remember
    You were crouched down in the glossy snow
    Ice held your hair to the ground
    Birds observed and contemplated your changed shape
    The maple reached up to the faltering sun, frantically dripping to free you
    Rivulets trickle on the ground picking up speed
    The sweeping warmth bathes the permafrost with gentle admonition
    Whispering promises in a cascading noon shower
    Crystalline glints flash and dazzle through the mid day
    A million rainbows
    A symphony of glittering conversation held in crescendo without stopping
    You reached fingers and arms in the air and waving as the crystal cloak shattered away
    The arc of your spine unfurling to restore the form
    Now under a blue sky, proud and tall
    Oblivious to your own personal triumph

  20. deborah says:

    Jen, this is so different , but it touched something inside of me. Reading it , I felt for the first time as if we in this community were all close sisters. sharing a together moment in creating something. I needed this. It feels good thank you. Btw I also suffer with depression.

  21. Zeena Rastomjee says:

    Winter — biting cold, shivering, frozen hands and feet! But also a time of sweet hope … when glaciers will turn into gardens! Nature turns full circle from hectic activity to gentle rest — that’s a divine law!

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