"If you pay attention, the events of an ordinary day can come together as a found poem."
-- Parker Palmer
I came across that quote from Parker Palmer earlier this month, and I've been thinking about it ever since. I'm really taken with the whole notion of "ordinary days" (or even "ordinary months") coming together as a poem. I decided . . . to give it a try. Could I actually turn my ordinary month . . . into a poem???
Much as I love poetry, I am not a poet. I mean, I like and appreciate words and the rhythm of language, but I've never had "success" (such a loaded word, "success". . . ) with writing poetry myself. I don't feel bad about that, and I don't really care. I have many other ways to express myself, and have no regrets about not being a poet.
Yet . . . I am drawn to discovering a "found poem" in the ordinary events of my days.
Not WRITING a poem, per se . . . but LIVING a poem!
I decided to give it a try.
APRIL . . . you were not always easy.
But, then, isn't that usually the way?
Ordinary. Difficult. Pushing and pulling.
But perhaps that's the nature of a poem?
Cold and blustery.
But daffodils and forsythia in the end.
Though most of that was my doing, not yours.
A time of freshening up.
Repotting the houseplants.
Planning for the garden.
Gathering with actual people again.
Events on the calendar. Like . . . live ones.
Lunches with friends, Sundays with family.
Having a massage.
But also happy memories.
Love. Gratitude. Adjustments.
Life goes on.
Dirt under my fingernails.
Turning on the grill.
Opening the cabin.
Flipping my closet.
April? Aha! You were a poem, of sorts, after all.
But full of poetry, too.
(Waiting to be "found.")
LIVE your own poem!
What parts of your April . . . were like a "found poem?"