Day 24
nearing the end
Friends,
I’ve been traveling for the last few days, and I’ve been so grateful that you are creating poetry, whether you’re sharing it here or keeping it to yourself.
I’m so grateful for this community, for the space and magic we share with one another.
Today’s poetry prompt is bliss.
Bliss isn’t so much a feeling
as an experience.
I experience bliss,
it comes over me
when I feel totally safe and secure,
when I eat the perfect oven-baked sweet potato,
or drink a tall glass of water after a long walk.
Bliss is my morning routine,
curled up with a blanket, coffee, and a good book.
Bliss is watching a dog sleep,
noticing a child’s authentic laughter,
hearing a hawk cry out from above,
catching a taxi right before the rain hits,
listening to jazz on a cold afternoon.
Bliss is comfort to me,
a release from the stress,
a settling into a moment
of care and calm.
Someone once said
find your bliss
and I’m forever finding mine—
so what’s yours?
Bliss.
There is a place
In my garden
Hidden from most
Under the willow tree
I sit
I read
I contemplate
I breathe
I hear
the birds
and the wind
In the trees
I see
the butterflies
and the bees
drink from
my flowers
I smell
the earth
The veil
is thin here
I visit often.
A dozen Voodoo Donuts
with a dozen friends
at the Skidmore Fountain
at three in the morning.
Sweaty from the concert,
giddy with exhaustion,
tossing stories and maple bars from one person to another.
Tolkien poetry in the trailer afterward—
“I will not say the day is done,
nor bid the stars farewell “—
curled up on the couch
knowing belonging
feeling that life is a wide-open landscape of possibilities.
When memory fades, I hope this is the last one that remains.
When memory fades, I hope this is the last one that remains.