made from scratch, with love

I did something this morning that I haven't done in years.

I wrote a poem.

I wrote it with the full intention of publishing it on here, and I will...after some other words.

You see, I'm feeling rather vulnerable about posting my poem. I don't often feel this way. Generally speaking, I don't often care what people think about me. I do lots of things that might make me look foolish. Here's a great example:

Yup, that's a photo of me in my bathrobe. I posted it on facebook the other day after being egged on by my friends. If I think something I do or say will make you laugh the chances are really high that I will do or say that thing. Everyone needs to laugh more.

So, I don't mind looking foolish. However, it's a completely different thing to me if you think what I say is stupid. And here's where the vulnerability about my poem comes out. Maybe the words don't all exactly rhyme. Maybe you think the way I repeat lines is dumb. Maybe (and worst of all) you just don't even get what I'm trying to say.

To avoid the last one, here's the general idea behind my poem: This morning I wanted to write. I was struck by the weird weather and wild wind. I felt the need to be creative with words. It felt holy.

But my house was a wreck. I was in the middle of doing some supper prep. There is literally a week's worth of laundry waiting to be folded. Someone dropped yogurt on the floor. It felt mundane.

Whenever I choose being over doing there is instantly this battle within. I know in my head that sometimes choosing creativity is healthy for me. But my heart has yet to accept that. It screams at me that I am not enough.

Today I told it to shut up. And I wrote.

I'm not much for a cloudy day

I prefer bright sunshine and blue sky

I'm not much for a windy day

I prefer gentle breezes blowing by

But today my soul is stirred

by the textures, colors, and sound

today my soul is stirred

by the sky, the trees, the ground.