I stepped out of the pulpit
away from 24/7 availability
expecting to pick up a pen
write my heart’s content
in the absence of looming deadlines
a waiting audience
words turned reclusive
stingy with appearances

my soul’s expression gone underground
perhaps now is the time
to get reacquainted with my hiking boots
employ my hands with folding dough
be surprised by daffodil shoots
find wonder in eagle’s wings

no need to poke what seeks solitude
better served by sheltering warmth
and a long winter’s nap
when they’re ready
they’ll resurface, stretch
then we’ll play

18 July 2013


    • Margie on March 2, 2014 at 2:33 pm

    Alice, I especially like your poems Silent and Snow Day with their thought provoking images. Your reflection on life in transition reminds me of the poem A Welcoming Place with its references to strands, lace, the thread of compassion, cords of hope and braiding us into one. The action of hope propels diplomacy, a skill needed to face Russian advances into the Crimea. This is such a contrast to Socchi that brought countries together. More thoughts to follow.

  1. Margie, thank you for the thoughtful response. I really like your phrase “the action of hope”. Hope is active, even as it’s a ground from which to live.

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