I was walking late night, the breeze lifting my hair, lifting
my hair from my forehead. I was walking late night, the breeze lifting
a weight from my shoulders. A weight was carried for me.
I was cared about by the wind, talking to me in the trees,
the trees, tall black silhouettes, held air and shook it into words,
and a word sailed across currents – hedonia, hedonia – pleasure.
The pleasure of hair swirling around my head, hair lifting off my back.
My hair – I couldn’t control it – the wind lifting it from my back.
* * * * *
This poem that I wrote is extraordinary for two reasons. First, if you’ve been following my blog, you know how hard it is for me to enjoy my body and feel free. Here I was walking in the night, trusting the wind to do what it would with my hair. The relief, surprise, and joy were palpable, which I hope the poem conveyed.
The second reason was the ease with which it was published. I read it at an open mic and afterward, a man approached me, telling me how delighted he was with the poem. He wondered if he could publish it in the Foothill Post, an on-line magazine featuring life in the communities of the Sierra Foothills. I was thrilled and, of course, said yes.
I would like to have a similar experience with my memoir manuscript about infant surgery. It would go something like this: I just finish reading from my memoir excerpt published in the anthology The Healing Art of Writing. At the refreshment table, a man approaches me with compliments for my piece. He just happens to be a publisher for a wonderful press and wants my permission to consider the manuscript for publication. “Of course,” I respond, thrilled. I send it and within two weeks, I’ve got a book deal that feels right.
Can’t wait!
Words that fly and have the feel of freedom. So grateful for the way you can express yourself about your feelings and aspirations,and in such language! Thanks you Wendy.
In our little PS community we’re continuing to work towards the day when your Memoirs will fly with you. Yes, we’re being carried in that longing too: we just need to fly a little higher and farther, it seems.
With you on my flight team, I feel I’m getting closer.
Words that fly and have the feel of freedom. So grateful for the way you can express yourself about your feelings and aspirations,and in such language! Thanks you Wendy.
In our little PS community we’re continuing to work towards the day when your Memoirs will fly with you. Yes, we’re being carried in that longing too: we just need to fly a little higher and farther, it seems.
With you on my flight team, I feel I’m getting closer.
Dream, believe, manifest. You are on your way.
Dream, believe, manifest. You are on your way.
Thank you, Irene, for your support.
Thank you, Irene, for your support.
Wow, this poem touched my heart so deep that it lifted my spirit so high. I am going to read this poem whenever I need inspiration. By the way, I’m so glad about your materials being published and I wish you will get to touch more hearts than ever with it. Love & Peace…
Wow, this poem touched my heart so deep that it lifted my spirit so high. I am going to read this poem whenever I need inspiration. By the way, I’m so glad about your materials being published and I wish you will get to touch more hearts than ever with it. Love & Peace…
Thanks for letting me know how deeply you were touched. Do you write poetry?
Thanks for letting me know how deeply you were touched. Do you write poetry?
Yup. Before grammar and all, my first form of writing that I found interest in, was poetry. It took me by my heart because I had never knew how to express myself and poetry taught me that.
Yup. Before grammar and all, my first form of writing that I found interest in, was poetry. It took me by my heart because I had never knew how to express myself and poetry taught me that.
How wonderful! Yes, poetry is a language of the heart.
How wonderful! Yes, poetry is a language of the heart.