All my creative pursuits.
A poem by Meg Sorick
It’s a tired old story played on a broken down stage
Second rate performances by a third rate cast
When the end is no grand finale
The last scene concludes
With the actors running out of script
The stage lights dim as they stare
At the orchestra abandoning the pit
While a single, slow clap of applause
Echoes in the darkened theater
Header image: The Uptown Theater ~ Photo by Hidden City Philadelphia
Like blood that pools ’round the gaping wound
The crimson blossom sprouts from the ground
As the flesh decays and returns to dust
Becomes the cruelest sacrifice in a cause unjust
The body submits to Nature’s inevitable toil
Leaves its very essence to fertilize the soil
And so in the lonely, unmarked grave
The abundant poppies adorn the fallen brave
I haven’t been inspired to write poetry lately. (Be kind!) I wanted words to accompany my painting of Poppies in No Man’s Land. (Also be kind!!)
Inspire: breathe in
Inspire: fill someone with the urge or ability to do or feel something, especially to do something creative
Writers look for inspiration everywhere. In some of my previous posts I’ve mentioned finding inspiration in music, in art, and in my own personal life experiences. Having your senses stimulated this way, often fires your creative process. There’s another way, though…
Like the rest of you, my life is busy and my mind can be a very noisy and messy place. It can get to the point where it feels like I can’t catch my breath. Maybe even like I’m under water. When that happens, it’s time to take a break and find some quiet time. For me, that means getting outside, no matter the weather. Walking the country roads past the crumbling old walls that line the pastures, I let my mind wander. There’s a fallen down barn on the dirt road about a mile away. The red-tailed hawks perch on the half-rotted beams and watch for field mice and rabbits in the tall grass. The wind sighing, the birds singing, the chatter of the squirrels is the only music to my ears. Cross the creek, rushing with last night’s rain. The smell of damp leaves, the early spring mud, all loamy and decayed.
Breathe it in deeply. Inspire…
Maybe you live in the city and can’t get out into nature that easily. Go out and walk the sidewalks, enjoy the sunshine, the hum of traffic, the jostle of people hurrying to their destinations. Spend an hour, if you have it, without your phone. Ignore the texts, e-mails and alerts for a while. They’ll be there when you get back. Find a park, sprawl on a bench, listen to the buzz of conversations going on around you, the laughter of children playing. Let it be like white noise, vague and mesmerizing.
Inspire…
Now go home and write something beautiful.
Meg Sorick, Author/Artist 