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Finding New Words

Wow. Writer’s block.

Even when I’ve pulled out my journal to do some “wet ink” writing (writing without lifting the pen from the page) I’ve felt stuck. The ideas aren’t there, not like they have been anyway. And, so, lately I have been finding myself writing poems as a way to keep the pen moving. For some reason the poem format is not blocking me like the regular page is. I may share some of these poems with you from time to time. Maybe even today. These poems are, like the rest of my journal entries, unedited, unrevised. Just thoughts in that moment.

I like poetry because it seems to be able to reach spaces that regular phrasing could not. It helps me see myself and the world around me in new ways. Here’s one that I wrote while lying in bed the other night listening to my son sleeping in the next room.

 

Nasally breathing

from the softness

of your crib next door.

Breathing in

chest is rising

Breathing out

chest is falling.

Outside, wind is howling

Snowflakes falling

And you’re still breathing.

I’m still breathing.

Just to hear you breathe.

I am breathing

just to hear you breathe.

 

“Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.”

– Robert Frost

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