I was digging around on my computer files, looking for an old document and stumbled across an entire folder full of poetry.
Truthfully? I had kind of forgotten I ever wrote poetry. However, in reading through them, I am reminded of why it is so important to do, even if you are the only one to ever see it: It forces us to see the world in news ways and distill things down to a sharp, visceral image.
Since I'm feeling kind of devoid of words right now, I'm thinking it might be a good exercise to play with some poetry. This is one I wrote about ten years ago, I think. (I've upgraded computers so many times since then, none of the dates on the documents correspond with when they were actually written.)
a great big belly laugh from the heavens,
guffawing with joy,
at the sheer power of its magnificence.
no longer able to restrain themselves,
release their torrents,
a little flex of celestial muscle.
Which is pretty much what happened to me on my walk yesterday, sans the thunder. :-)