My Edmonds News is pleased to present the latest installment of Poet’s Corner, presented by the Edmonds-based EPIC Poetry Group.
The Poet’s Canvas
Paint a picture with words.
Apply the oil paints of adjectives,
the acrylics of verbs and adverbs.
Create colors of music
for the hearer,
for the reader.
Apply vibrating palettes of color,
vowels and consonants
to stimulate imagination.
Spread the water colors of
metaphor and allegory
over the canvas of your soul.
Intensity to nurture spirit,
embellishing the mind with
fibers of synonyms and antonyms,
expressing eccentricity and giftedness.
You are the artist and author of your life.
You are poetry!
~ ~ ~ ~
We are traveling along the periphery of light
while simultaneously wandering
the minute edge of darkness,
the precipice where shadow is birthed.
Shadow illuminates the form of
our constricted humanity,
the evidence of divinity within us
often unacknowledged or unconfessed.
Daybreak transcends to twilight,
evening transforms to morning,
quiet moments of timelessness
reflect shadow in the windows and mirrors of our mind.
Burdened by cultural expectations,
we are pregnant with
unfulfilled possibilities and
Shadow exposes sacred spaces where
insight, revelation and musings congeal.
Hidden treasures of darkness
emerge as unlikely teachers,
heart-breaking, soul-splitting situations and
circumstances which postulate
new levels of conscious mindfulness previously resisted.
Moreover, when we finally grow weary
of being overshadowed by shadow,
liberation and self-actualization propel us
deeper into the periphery of light.
Continuing our pilgrimage there,
stolen blessings are recovered and we are gifted by
the breath lingering between unshared kisses of our lover,
the peaceful rests between notes of music,
the unspoken love of children and elders in our life, and
the ebb and flow of the journeys of beloved souls
who cross over before us as the power of shadow is broken.
~ ~ ~ ~
Another fourteen inches of snow has fallen in my woods
The wind blows gently over snow-draped trees
Tickling the snow from their branches
The flakes gently float to the ground in a silent dance
I walk across the yard to spread fresh bird seed for my feathered friends
I roll apples to the edge of the woods for the hungry deer that sleep there
I am aware of the silence
The profound absence of noise that enshrouds me like one of Nana’s warm quilts
I stand under the tall cedars looking up through iced branches
I hear only the sound of my heartbeat
I am bathed in an enveloping sense of peace
This challenges my human understanding
I am grateful to be here today
To be alive
To be alone
To have wisdom
To feel strengthened
To experience miracles
To know and receive blessings
To be writing from my heart
To have clarity of mind once again
And to know that I am loved
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Donna M. Rudiger began her creative writing journey as an adolescent growing up in Pennsylvania; she relocated to the Seattle area in 1974. Donna writes poetry, poetic prose, essay and stories for children. She is a member of the Skagit Valley Writer’s League, the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators and the Seattle Storytellers Guild. She is a retired technical writer and lives with the wildlife in the woods of Arlington.