|photo courtesy of my awesome|
younger brother, MicaJon Dykes
Hello, and happy Poetry Friday! Marjorie has Roundup at PaperTigers.
I'm in a contemplative mood this morning, excited to be traveling to Columbus, GA for Chattahoochie Valley Writers' Conference and time with dear poet-friend Doraine Bennett, whose lovely spirit graces many a Poetry Friday.
I've noticed Mary Oliver comes up a lot in Roundups, and I love that, because her work so often speak to me at THE moments I need it most. Today I'm thinking about the journey, not just as writer, but as a human finding one's voice.
I wrote a post here some time ago about a line of poetry I love: "what is your sound & when & where should I listen?" It's a great question, but it's also one that can make a person feel lacking, as if you haven't done your duty as a living being if you haven't yet figured out your sound, your voice, your purpose.
Which is why I love this poem by Mary Oliver. It offers an alternate view - not a sudden rush, not a proclamation, but something gradual, something that develops over years and experience.
I'm still finding my voice, still creating myself. Some days I feel a lot of pressure to develop faster, more, better. And others, like today, I'm content exactly where I am.
That's what my journey looks like. And that's just fine.
by Mary Oliver
One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
their bad advice--
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
rest of poem here
Wishing all of my fellow travelers a happy weekend!