Writing and Poetry

I like to write. Although I maintain this blog, well, that hardly counts as real writing. It is more like a glorified news report. I find within me a strong desire to get back to real writing. Samuel and I had a recent meeting with Ruth, the director of ELA, a CAM-related publishing house near here, in Puebla, Mexico. The door is wide open there for the eventual publication of a book or two or 10 in Spanish. We're kicking around some ideas. Probably youth-oriented material, with fun illustrations. But I ask myself, "Is my Spanish good enough to write a book?" Not sure about that. Nevertheless...I want to write, indeed, I almost have to write.

Another aspect of literature that I have enjoyed, and enjoyed creating in the past, is poetry. Alas, raising three kids makes poetry a luxury! Maybe that shouldn't be the case, but it is. I find myself without an office, competing with a couple of kids for the computer, finding that silence, let alone solitude, is virtually impossible in the life that we live. (Although these two things can be over-rated...parties are pretty fun!).

Here's a poem I wrote a long time ago. Funny, it might be more relevant now than it was then.

MIDSUMMERNIGHT'S DREAM

Walking on a time line, between dimensions
Of light and space, a wheel of colors
Spinning around, a mirrored reflection
In a sea of glass and memory.

A bright, dark sky with soft clouds
Floating by, headed who knows where,
Bright stars shout out loud
As night becomes day, or so it seems.

And thoughts so dark and deep and clear
Such that I cannot fully express
Bombard my mind, a mix of fondness and fear,
Impressions, feelings, hopes, dreams.

As the passing years become as days
All strung out like a pattern repeated,
Conceived, designed, fashioned, replayed
Over and over and over again.

I sit myself down in a quiet enough place,
As I've done before, to peer into the night
To examine, refine, reject, and replace
This swirling of faces, ideas, beliefs.

I am alone, and I feel all the pain
Of living with so many questions.
How in the world will I ever regain
A conscience complete, a soul satisfied?

I've traveled far, and I bear the scars
Of too many unanswered pleas.
Is it too early to finish, too late to start...
Experiencing what I say I believe?

The clouds run away, and I hear the wind say
As it rustles and whistles my name,
That I just have to wait, there will come a day,
When all that is dark will be clear.

I will seek, then, to live what I know and believe,
Content not to know the whole plan;
Seeking to love those You've given to me,
Staking my life on the vows You have made.

Run ‘cross the sky, clouds fringed with silver
Reflecting the light of the moon.
I will seek the sun; the light that delivers
My soul from its twilight fears.

P.S. Remember to check out Daniel's blog at www.mexicocity360.blogspot.com