a poem on writing practice
by Jennifer Browning
Click.
Rustle.
Scratch and scribble.
The ring of the bell.
The breath in.
The breath out.
The smell of coffee.
And paper.
And ink.
A prompt.
A sword to the heart.
Soft belly open to possibility.
Bleeding on the page.
Real life.
Real death.
Real writing.
Like blue faced Picts
facing the hordes
we rush forward
fear inspiring our courage
brandishing only a pen
for battle
for defense
for life.
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It's a well-kept secret: Your body's center, your belly, is home to your core life force. It's the site of your soul power, the source of your passion, creativity, intuitive guidance, and spiritual well-being. I'll be writing my “belly stories” here and musing on current events from an eye-of-the-womb perspective. I invite you to do the same!
1 comment:
I am enjoying the new entries! And the writing practice poem is perfect for me right now---I am part of a writing group in hopes I will gain enough steam to finish my thesis (a collection of poetry). This poem helps! Thanks.
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