A Poem of My Own
Hope you enjoyed Poetry Month. I have to confess that it was nice to know my blog had a post every day, with minimal effort from me. It was sort of like having a self-cleaning house or a self-driving car or something. (I'm telling you, they ever make a robot who can drive a car so the passenger can laze around with a laptop, reading blogs and such, I will so be there.)
But now it's back to reality. I think I might be coming out of hibernation, but the new job means a total daily commute of 80 miles/2+ hours, so I doubt my posting will be anywhere near daily.
The time in the car is interesting. I'm trying to look at it as an asset - a time to think or sing along with my IPod or just appreciate the truly beautiful place where I am lucky enough to live. I like the thinking time and find it helpful for my writing (although it means I have to remember the words that are trying to jump out of my brain when I hit a good thought).
This week, the time helped me write a poem. Shocking, I know. In fact, I considered declaring May to be Bad Poetry Month and I'd write one every day. But really, I'm not any kind of a poet. (I'm not a dancer either.) Enough waffling. Here is my poem.
The Blank Page
Gatsby believed in the green light
A future that recedes into the past
A current forever pulling us backwards
A life of unfulfilled wistfulness
I believe in the blank page
A future that stretches to the horizon
A line that marches us forward
A life of limitless possibilities
Above all, I believe this:
Respect the blank page
Do not fill it with history
Or burden it with hesitancy
Or tie it down with conditions
Write boldly, quickly,
With a sense of purpose
Just open your eyes and dream