Why do we wish on dandelions
Birthday candles
Brief, delicate things that so easily disappear?
Do we know then, that wishes are futile?
Contretemps fought in the mind, outcomes turned over and over, like the forked breast bone of a chicken dragged away by ants
But only after it has been pulled apart by the pinky fingers of children – each vying for their wish to come true
Long end winner – that was so rarely me, with strong brothers hauling on the other end
Why do we pray to the invisible divine?
Look to the sky ?
Fall to our knees in church pews and upon bathroom tiles
Plead?
Need
So very much
Let my ashes to ashes be of a thousand campfires
My dust to dust, blowing behind me in review mirrors
Travelling mind thinking, dreaming
We are just the memory of clouds really, running across the grass, scattering the sun
Falling stars last longer in the reflection of an awed child’s eyes
First star I see, I wish I might
For what?
The breath to run faster toward a horizon that will one day be our last
What is so serious in the face of that?
Blow your candles if you must, But their brief flutter, soon gutted, promises nothing
Just another year gone around whilst we stand by wishing
*I don’t wish when I see a falling star, I make plans to see more of them, preferably whilst out in nature, rather than through a window. The same is true of candles. Though I haven’t fought over a wishbone for a long time – pretty grisly little tradition come to think of it.
I’ve been extremely productive in my time off all social media. I’ve missed sharing poetry though, simply because I don’t write it as much when I’m not contemplating a blog post. Some of my favourite poetry has come when I turned on the creative tap in order to find a blog post. I think in lines often, but an entire poem doesn’t come as easily – unless I enquire nicely and with purpose. I ask a lot of questions, luckily poetry is usually my answer.
I’ve only been gone a month but it feels like ages and no doubt my catch-up reading will take awhile too. I’ve been gone a lot longer than that from other social media – almost six months and now I have another decision to make there.
Oddly today, I found that my Instagram hadn’t blown up last year. As I searched for the Instagram profile of a lady I was interested in from a podcast, my own profile popped up. I scrolled mesmerised. It was like unearthing a time capsule.
Some background. My personal account had deleted as planned last year, and as it was the maternal link to the poetry one I thought “two birds one stone” at the time, but no, my poetry one is still there. How strange. I was a little relieved – there is a lot of poetry on that profile . Not that it matters I guess, nothing matters except what we give meaning to.
Which answered another question, and why I have finally climbed the hill of my own self and am now marching down the other side again.
What meaning do I give to my writing. None – I don’t take it seriously anymore, I can’t even maintain a proper identity on social media – how the hell am I going to sell any books or, given my very full life – how am I going to find time to write a book in the first place. I have three unfinished manuscripts languishing in a drawer that I don’t even like anymore. Begun with steam and passion, they each trickled to an abrupt stop around 50,000 words.
Writing isn’t about talent so much as persistence – and I don’t have any of the latter, even if I sometimes like to imagine I possess a little of the former.
So what? Millions have a talent for stringing words together – look at the books for sale on Amazon – trillions. So what is my relevance and reality as a writer and poet?
Zero
But I like it. I like explaining my whispering mind to myself. I like touching other peoples hearts, I like them touching mine, I like being creative and finding satisfaction in my internal work, and that, I’ve found is enough.
My wondering on whether being a blogger has any relevance in this world of countries swallowing others, threats of nuclear cataclysms, floods and suffering people, plagues and screens and mental illness and heart disease, and all the rest of it too, is over. I really did question heavily for a time, what is my relevance as a writer, as a poet, as a blogger?
Nothing matters except what we give meaning to – it is a choice, and a very personal one. I am glad so many others find writing a meaningful and worthwhile pursuit because as an avid reader and consumer of art I would find the world a boring place without books, poetry, movies, paintings and photography. Perhaps now more than ever, we need authentic voices to tune into. Traditional media is full of the dire, and social media is full of the ridiculous, yet many bloggers retain their authenticity. Well ones that I follow do anyway.
And then there are the timely messages and posts that we come across, which seem to be just for us. If, like me, you have been pondering your compulsion to write and share your work with others of late, perhaps this might mean something to you. And if it does, I hope it means you continue.
You’ve certainly been missed. And “relevance” is a pointless ambition, if it means pursuing the attention that follows everything else going on. All the things that occupy eyes and minds merely because the puppet masters deem them worthy of attention. Authenticity is of far more value, and this little community here on WordPress is one I’d choose any day over the poisoned prettiness of social media. Whether you write for yourself alone, one reader, few, or many, stay true to yourself and keep sharing windows to your heart and mind… because the written word has such power to connect us. It’s almost a sacred space, at times…and one we should never give up as long as it still brings us fulfilment.
Beautifully said Yacoob, your words resonate with so much of what I’ve been thinking about lately. Things like, we choose our world by what we allow into it. The media tends towards the negative bias but there is always extreme beauty and wisdom happening at the same time – it is not as widely shared, so we have to seek out that polarity and then be responsible for sharing that to a broader audience. The world is perfectly balanced, light and dark, good and bad, hope and despair – beauty and atrocity … nature tells us this is the way of things so I am committed to finding the other side of the spectrum and sharing it, where I can. There is enough of the dark and certainly enough of the ridiculous and narcissistic. We can only try. 😊
Glad to see you back. I love the way you string thoughts and words together and am grateful that you share them. I’ve come to similar conclusions with my writing. So many talented voices…so little time for me to devote what’s required to be published. But blogging brings me pleasure and allows me to connect with and appreciate the thoughts of others. This poem is beautiful and true, and also perfect is your line in the exposition: Traditional media is full of the dire, and social media is full of the ridiculous, yet many bloggers retain their authenticity.
Thank you for sharing your heart.
It’s lovely to be back, thanks Collette, yes blogging fills that spot for me that yearns to write and share. I would rather constantly write from the heart on a diverse array of things that I am interested and invested in than try and focus on just hammering out one long novel – besides which I can’t do fiction, I rarely even read fiction these days and prefer autobiographies or topics of spirituality, health and travel – so my book ideas are a little limited too. So the blogging life it is 😁 long may it continue 💕
Kate, I read this with tears. Everything you so beautifully shared explains a very similar journey~mine. When I began at the end of 2020 I was searching for my voice. Myself. We e all been through so much these last 2 years. I understand about social media. I’m on IG,…yet, my time is becoming less and less. I don’t enjoy it. Too much to share, but I know you understand. Sending you love and peace. I’m so glad to see you. I miss you. And am so happy for this time you’ve had! 💛♥️❤️
Hi Karla, lovely to see you too and you’re so easy to see because everything you write is from the heart. Instagram used to be a favourite of mine years ago but I cannot connect with it now, I’m not sure why but things don’t change so much as we do – so maybe that’s it. I think a writers voice develops over time, I used to get sick of mine – it would yammer on whether I was using it or not but as I’ve gotten quieter in my head, largely due to writing, the voice has changed to one I enjoy listening to. Which sounds a little looney but only if you’re not a writer (who actually needs all those voices in their head – they’re like employees!🤪)
Thank you so much for this lovely comment. “…it would yammer on whether I was using it or not but as I’ve gotten quieter in my head, largely due to writing, the voice has changed to one I enjoy listening to…” this is beautiful! That’s exactly it! Your last line made me giggle. I’m so glad I’m not “in charge” anymore of anything but my mind. I have stretched it with my time with Special Needs adults and serving on the Board. But I know my limitations to keep things quieter. 💛♥️❤️
So glad to hear from you, Kate 🙂 <3
Hello Rosaliene 💕
Damn, midlife crisis, but not about a diet or a car or a haircut. Possibly, you’re thinking too much. If you like to write, write. There doesn’t need to be a point. Recognize though that you touch people all over the world, and that’s something. One Christmas morning my blog was read by people in 25 countries. I’m not sure if that’s the point, but it’s pretty cool.
It is pretty cool when you think about it like that Jeff – the people all over the world part. Can’t do that with many other vocations really. Thinking too much is one of my particular talents – it just has to be gainfully directed, and mostly I do do that these days. I really enjoy your blog posts, they are easy and interesting on the eye.
they are easy and interesting on the eye. I have no idea what this means. Good I hope.
Very good! Sorry Jeff, I meant that you write with flow, it’s easy to be caught up in what you are writing and enjoy the journey down the page. Love your writing – there now, that’s pretty clear hopefully 😊⭐️
So happy you have returned. Love this beautiful poem.
Thanks Anita
Thanks Anita 💕
writing is your gift from God. how odd perhaps. as to serious ha! but it is not for money lady honey. i share it s the one thing i m good at. but i do not pretend to understand nor care. this arrow then is for you. whopee. or as archie bunker said so oft whop dee do!
Pretty much right where I’m at… just spending a few minutes perusing the reader wondering if it’s the direction I want to continue… I sure do love your writing though. 🙂
Hi Laura, if you enjoy it then continue. I posted for the first time yesterday in a month and my entire day was full of energy and fun. I get a buzz from creating that I didn’t realised I had missed until I got back to writing and sharing – for me, that’s a big enough benefit by itself to continue. I think it opens the window for flow to enter our lives when we do what we are supposed to be doing.
such beautiful; thoughts but wait… you’re back so soon or have I been gone for so long ?!! 💖
I’m not sure Cindy, I’ve been gone a month. Long enough to reset and recalibrate. 😊
oh good for you!💖🌻