Happy day three of 2019, y’all.
I gave up making New Year resolutions years ago — never kept them. But, I hope (pledge) to write one poem each day this year. I write 30 poems during April for National Poetry Writing Month, so only 333 more to deal with (two done).
It may not be 365 good enough poems in one year, or ever. But, I’ll try. It’s my challenge.
I’ll share a few and deal with ideas or prompts where I discover them. I plan to keep writing essays and stories, and there is that A to Z blog thingy in April.
Remember, other than exercise and normal functions of life, I write stuff.
I’ve neglected reading and writing poetry most of my life. I want to catch up.
If I fail, I’ll own it and keep you advised.
You have a great year.
(The following poem is from my 2018 unpublished corpus.)
The Most Perfect Day
as I stepped onto the trail
I heard the noisy silence of the wild
rustling trees with brushing leaves and needles,
the grasses were dancing with the air
of a breathing Zepher-set movement,
spreading pollen and peace to all.
My footsteps, almost an invasion of the natural
of life and life and life.
soon, We were blessed by the flowing gift
of a quiet soft rain kissing Us,
My lips, My nose, face, and licking My shoulders.
trees began a dance joyfully in thanksgiving
for the sweet life-giving beverage of the gods.
I became dumbly transfixed
to My internal awareness
of My place
in the plan of the universe
and the circle of life and life and life.
I am alive,
and the trees and the rain.
all are pleased to see Me,
to touch Us,
to be as much a part of Me as
I have become a part
an almost most-perfect day – never alone
fully alive with life. and life
©Bill Reynolds 12/30/2018
2019 has more future than past, not so I.
Life is lived forward, but look both ways to be safe.
Mind the gaps — accidents are the third leading cause of death.