Pandemic Poem-A-Day: Fireflies
Hi friends! I hope you are all staying well. I’ve been reading voraciously (is there such a thing as too much reading? I may find out soon), and revising and writing. The best thing to come out of the pandemic at my house is the poetry. Every day, or at least most days, I try to sit with an empty page, stare out the window, and let the poetry arrive in search of me, as Neruda might say.
I can’t share much of the new poetry, as it’s still cooking, but some very nice things have been happening with some of last year’s crop! Including this lovely moment, where my poem Fireflies appears as the poem of the day on a lovely blog.
Okay, okay. I can’t help myself. I’ll share a few words of a poem in progress… the first few lines of a thing that won’t stop whispering.
world was quiet
the night was dark
and we dreamed
with our eyes wide,
the stars were maps.
Now go, and write, and be ready when the unformed poem arrives, breathless, waiting for you.