Today I chanced to read one of my poetry books I had created and I enjoyed the memories.
It came from an assignment in a class I took. The teacher gave us each a couple lines to start our poem with and I have italicized them. We were to create a 'found poem' that expresses us, what we feel, or what we are, or something of ourselves.
Here I share it with you.
I take a path, walking
where my spirit will lead,
time and thought my surveyors;
they lay the course well.
My human heart stirs
as I contemplate the firs
robed in green-gray moss,
the murmuring pines and mossy hemlocks,
the gnarled elms with grumpy silhouettes.
Among these bending boughs I inhale
inspiration and follow my imagination.
The sunset gleams a smoldering smile
upon the horizon as loons circle
in the moth-spattered light.
Shadows of clouds upon a rivulet
change, minute by minute,
and I see my Muse whispering words into the wind.
Light pirouettes off the shore,
a mystic play of shadows,
twining and twisting as if alive.
My soul is reflected in nature,
a splinter of light in a river
that undulates through life.
Like a single snowflake, complex and delicate,
I am unique from all others.
As words uncoil like smoke
emerging from a smothered fire,
they rise leisurely out of me.
I am a chanter of pain and joy,
unifier of here and hereafter,
embroiderer of expressions,
passing on my revelations.
I let words rain down on me,
hear matchless lyrics within their flow.
The paper in memory's sketchbook is crisp,
smooth, a virgin of loveliness
expectant beneath my hand.
Words come to me, slowly, tenderly, shyly.
I am a weaver of language and dreams,
they quiver against my tremulous hands
as my fingers shift them like fine sands.
and through expression
I shall exclaim it
again and again.
Rose Lefebvre ©