Friday Poetry – Orchids

“Thursday Poetry” has happened accidentally on Fridays enough times now that I’m just going to rename the feature Friday Poetry! So there.

Here’s a poem I wrote this morning while contemplating cyclical creativity.   In handling myself as an artist, I need to remember to be gentle and tell myself that just because I’m not blooming, doesn’t mean I’m not growing.  I hope you’ll do the same.

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I heard about orchids once

that there are species which will not bloom
every season
like clockwork.

On the outside they appear barren,
silent,
producing nothing. But under
the dirt there is movement.

Underneath,
the roots are expanding and gathering,
listening to the world above. Wait.

When conditions are right, buds will unfold
and make you gasp
with gratitude.

Photosynthesis

Sometimes you just need to change your space in order to change perspective.

As many of you know, I recently moved to a new house.   This new place is going to have a nice little office space for me, that I’ve just barely started working on.  There’s also a great big yard and a nice sunroom and most importantly, lots of natural light.

The old place was…well… a cave.   It was dark, and muted, and felt very small even though it is technically bigger than the place I’m in now.    There are many writers for whom a small, dark nook is exactly the right place for them to bang out their work, but I am not one of them.  I need space. I crave light.  It’s almost as though my writing is directly fueled by photosynthesis.

While living at the old place, I struggled mightily to write anything, much less a song.  Most of the songs I’ve written in the past two years have been started while I was elsewhere, either in a hotel room, at a conference, or on vacation.   I was sometimes able to finish a rewrite at home, but for the most part had to work very hard against the environment to do so.

I’ve only been in the new house full-time for a little more than a week, but I feel a change already.  I started working on a song this week, and was able to work on it for a few minutes at home.   Sitting in the sunroom for a few minutes with the cats, I catch a few ideas as they float by.   Standing out in the yard as the dogs run around joyfully, a turn of phrase occurs to me that I make a note to use later.  I take deep breaths of the air and close my eyes to feel the sun on my eyelids, and I can almost feel them converting something inside into words.

Despite the piles of stuff and stacks of boxes, despite not knowing where everything belongs just yet, my creative self is opening up and letting in the light.  Hallelujah.