eVery day I yearn for more poetry. I long to hear sweet poetic words that skip over my brain and settle into my soul awakening a piece of me that is now sleeping. I long to dance along with the second reading of a poem that fits like a glove yet is emotive enough to wake me up to a deeper, slumbering part of myself. Painting & photography can do this part way but poetry somehow catapults me deeper, my soul livens, weeps, dances & sings.
I want to share my own poetry here but don’t have a poem that fits this moment. So instead let me share an old favorite by Mary Oliver. Here is the photograph I made years ago back at Camp Pendleton, CA with one of my Holga cameras. It is also called The Journey.
The Journey by Mary Oliver
One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice-
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles
“Mend my life!”
each voice cried.
But you didn’t stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do-
determined to save
the only life you could save.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I love this poem’s message of saving the only life I can save, mine. No matter how deep their meloncholy is, no matter how difficult their journey seems. I live with an overwhelming sense of responsibility for others (perhaps a condition of being of service for nearly 20 years. I am releasing this now & diving deeply into my own journey of poetry, art, healing & discovering.
I’m hoping that this will be the impetus to get me writing some poetry again. I want to dance with my soul more frequently inbetween taking Raine to school, doing the laundry, & fixing dinner. When I dance with poetry the pain of the world can’t catch up to me.
Big Poetic Love,
katariina