I joined a Facebook poetry writing group created by Laura Shovan. We wrote poems during the month of February to ten found words from news articles. So many of us didn’t want it to end, so Laura extended the project. Each month one member puts up a prompt of 10 found words. This month Heather Meloche posted a spring poem by Rainer Maria Rilke.
Harshness vanished. A sudden softness
has replaced the meadows’ wintry grey.
Little rivulets of water changed
their singing accents. Tendernesses,
hesitantly, reach toward the earth
from space, and country lanes are showing
these unexpected subtle risings
that find expression in the empty trees.
Heather’s selected words quickly came together in a poem for me. The practice of writing poetry is a mystery. Sometimes I can write, scratch out, rework, search for the just right word, and still end up with nothing worthy of sharing. But this poem wrote itself. I love it when that happens, so I continue to scratch each day and celebrate when the small miracles appear.
Suddenly, my hardness of heart vanished
into the meadow of his eyes. My gaze traveled
rivulets of tender tears watering the earth.
Tree rises from the soggy ground like a goddess
holding her arms out in expression of pure joy.
We danced in the softness of her embrace.