A Writer’s World

I drove to a small town library about an forty minutes from my place to be a part of a writers’ workshop today. I was surprised by the simple fullness I feel from being creative in this environment. It was the most relaxing thing I have done for myself in a long time. Interacting with the other participants was motivating. The facilitator, a local published author, had such helpful tasks. We did a five minute free write, character development (I think this was my favourite part), word imagery, and poem collaborations.

The poems were really word collages sharing each of our thoughts on a subject. Before we arrived the speaker had placed four sheets on the walls each with a word, ocean, mountain, morning, and war. We were given post it notes and asked to write our thoughts of the words on a separate sticky than put them on the corresponding sheet. Next each table chose one of the large word sheets and using the words, images, and/or thoughts of the whole group wrote a poem that fit the title. What I find neat/encouraging, the exact words I used for each subject were used in all three poems. I never considered myself a poet but these are the results of the exercise:

Ebb & Flow

Waves breaking on the shore then sucked back to sleep
Murky waters hide slivers of knowledge
Deep down lights dance in the volcanoes’ mysterious roaring rage
In the blue gray coldness, a silent place of peace
CRASH!
Salt birds and a boat chugs by.

Mountain

Rising from the mysterious depths
Jagged blue peaks
Chiseled face honed from
Eons of glacier’s slow march
Raucous overpowering wise and silent
Cutting cold
And aching joints

Morning

The waking of the world, art gallery of the day,
Crows heralding: opening the eyes from sleep,
The sun touches the trees with orange radiance,
Misty silence breaks with the rustle of life.
It is day.