I might want to be a pond someday.
Not round, but funny shape.
Trees can fall over into the shallow of my shores.
Nearly sunk logs will drift from here to there.
A good natured pond
In a Cascade mountain forest thick and proud
Lying limp at 5 am when a ripple now and then
Never kisses the edge.
Sparrows, swallows, chirpers of all kinds
Glide in pre-dawn to drink and eat.
Trout and catfish sleep until seven.
No hooks to fear if fear they could.
Skitter bugs run on water then
Sticky zap flash into frog's gut.
When hikers find me, they will breathe in
Deep the damp dripping with air.
I love the greenly quiet feel of this poem by Wildfire Writer L. Logan. I've started using the first line as a creative prompt. What is it you might want to be? I'm not talking about an occupation, or about anything you could ever physically be in reality. An inanimate object, a part of nature, an animal, an element. Stretching yourself in this way will teach you new things about who you are and can be . . . in the world of your imagination.
Write or draw whatever comes to mind when you read this: "I might want to be a . . . "
By the way, the photo is one I took at a lovely writing retreat last year near Ashland, Oregon.
Post a Comment
Thanks for your comment! I love feedback.