poetrybyheart.me

Sometimes everything has to be enscribed across the heavens so you can find the one line already written inside you. Sometimes it takes a great sky to find that small, bright, and indescribable wedge of freedom in your own heart. David Whyte

My Writing Room

The smaller of the two bedrooms in my apartment became my writing room when I moved here eight years ago. This is where my blog began with the help of a willing grandson. The large window is a portal to my imagination. I love the tall oak tree among whose spreading branches I watch squirrels and birds build nests and care for their young. The moon and changing colors of the sky shape the budding poet inside me. Within my room are things that remind me of my journey.

Green plants live near my window to catch the light. All are off-spring shoots from friends and family. Tending them nourishes the outdoor gardener in me. On the window ledge are things that shine on sunny days – a royal blue glass coffee mug, souvenir from a Colorado trip; a bluish purple paperweight that was my son’s; an old brass cowbell with lots of family history.

The walls have a geographical bent – picture of a Texas cowboy riding on a lonesome road, wedding present to my Dad a Texan, too. A wooden wall clock in the shape of Ohio, gift to me from my congregation in a small Ohio town. Three framed certificates mark my progress to become their minister.

Everything else is furniture that has traveled with me for a while. The student desk and chair were used by my three sons. The much-scarred cherry end table, a gift from my mother in the 60’s, has been in every home I’ve known. The futon came with me from Chicago when I moved back to Cleveland to be with my family here. My glass computer table and new laptop are beside a table where my printer sits. They are the newest things except for what I write, which await my muse.

With many thanks to Pleasant Street who gave me the idea to write this piece.

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Haiku: Morning Music

Birds singing early
Car tires whooshing on asphalt
Laptop keys tapping

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Everyday Inspiration Day Six: Where My Writing Happens

My writing begins where it will. This morning I was in my living room chair reading the Sunday paper when the neighborhood geese flew overhead. A haiku began to unwind in my mind. I reached for a notepad  and pen in the end table drawer and jotted down the first two lines, then sketched out a few more. Later I will give the haiku its final form on my desktop computer .

Last winter I had a dialogue with the early dawn sky and its amazing pink stripes. Every morning I found a new image I used to describe the  stripes. Sometimes the image came to me as I ate breakfast facing the window. I would tear off a scrap of paper from the daily news and write down the thought before it drifted away. A compelling first line was all it took for a haiku to grow.

Writing about my travels or family stories happens another way. I have boxes filled with travel itineraries, notes and pictures of the places I’ve been stored in freezer-sized Ziploc bags. I love to revisit a trip and re-live it in my mind’s eye. Writing brings up more memories. Family stories come to mind from pictures and letters stored in boxes and from objects that have accompanied me whenever I moved. I also write about my family in the present. The actual stories take shape as I write on my computer – sometimes prose and sometimes poetry.

The objects in the  room where I write are  visible reminders of my journey. By the window there is a child’s desk that belonged to one of my sons. A futon and a lamp occupied my computer room in the last place I lived. A maple chair  from my first house  after I was married sits in the corner. The drop-leaf table that matches it is in my kitchen. My Diplomas are on the wall. A picture of a cowboy riding his horse on the winding road of Texas ranch, which was a wedding present to my parents,  hangs over the futon.  My father was from Texas. There is a wooden wall clock in the shape of Ohio, where I now live, that ticks as I type. On the  window ledge is a large coffee mug with the name of the college I attended. My computer, glass computer table, office chair,  printer and the table it sits on are  newcomers. Four green house plants are my living companions.

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