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Friday, May 15, 2009

Thirteen

An old poem from my journal, written on March 13th. The prompt was, in fact the number 13, and because my step-daughter's birthday is March 15th, the ides were on my mind. Here's the edited and polished version, for what it's worth.

thirteen March
and the days
march on
moving toward
the ides of
ancient history
toward infamy
betrayal of one
who believed
himself beloved

and you my friend
loved companion
will you conceal
your heinous intent
will you injure in
the coming hours?
I mark the calendar
pages as they turn
ever nearer the
ides of yore – do you?

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

Not All Those Who Wander are Lost

Found this entry in my journal from back in January. It fits exactly how I feel today:



Not All Those Who Wander Are Lost


There's a quote in one of the Lord of the Rings books, that I love. (google search produces:)

He used often to say there was only one Road; that it was like a great river: it's springs were at every doorstep and every path was it's tributary. "It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out of your door," he used to say. "You step into the Road, and if you don't keep your feet, there is no telling where you might be swept off to."
The Lord of the Rings
Frodo about his uncle Bilbo Baggins, Chapter 'Three is Company'.

I like the idea of not keeping your feet and being swept away. I suppose free writing is sort of like that. You step onto a path and follow the stream of words that fly from your pen, or your fingertips, and in the end, when the flow subsides, you find yourself in a place you didn't anticipate...if the free writing is really free, and you write for long enough. I'm energized by that sort of journey.

It's like dipping your bucket into a stream and filling it up, then upon tasting the liquid inside, you find it's the flavor you least expected, chocolate, or raspberry or honey lemon tea. There's a flood to be swum (is it swam?) and the best I can do is just dive in and ride the current.

I spent much of yesterday floundering about near the shore, and that caused me problems when I needed to write something specific...when I needed to be creative and work on projects that lie waiting for me to pick them up and continue. Today, I'm hopeful that I can find that channel that will carry me swiftly into a place where I've not been yet.

I want to wander in the midst of the river and find myself...not lost but found.

Some days, writing seems like a whirlpool, going in circles, and getting choked by debris. But then there are days when you can break free of that swirling, go-nowhere current, and just rush headlong in the direction of the rapids.

I long for that rush.

I think maybe the structure of a schedule is making me stutter, instead of trusting the flow of the water.

Today, I hope to abandon myself to that tide and see where I end up. I look forward to an interesting ride.

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Unless otherwise attributed, all content, text or image, on this site is © TaunaLen 2005-2009.
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