A gentle gust of air flowed around her
Playing and weaving through her hair
bringing with it the promise of something new
something exciting, a grand adventure on the horizon
Her senses tingled with the anticipation of the thrill
the newness and discovery of the unknown
Of what she would uncover in her world
the world awaiting her words to shape it
into something tangible to share
What would await her there in this world
The world that chose her to speak to
that chose her to help it come into being
Chose her to help this world to breathe in others’ minds…
——part of a poem I wrote After watching Dickinson and now writing a poem, I’m reminded that not only am I a writer but a poet. I started writing poetry and have quite a few poems from before starting to write stories in book form. I need to remember and not forget my poetry and my poet soul, to include and incorporate it into my stories as well as still writing poems. As I wrote the above poem just now, I had some sort of emotional moment and felt something stirring inside and realized I’ve neglected an important part of my soul in not including and setting aside my poetry lately. I think my poetry needs to play a part and may be a missing piece to my writing process. My poems need to be in my stories too, I think. As I have been watching Dickinson and writing a little poetry again, I can feel a part of me coming to life inside that’s been dormant until recently…my soul calls to me to share in its depth and beauty in the artful form of words, in stories and in poems.