Never Fancied Myself a Poet

I have never fancied myself a poet. My experience writing a third-grade haiku didn’t spark a deep passion that made me want to pour my soul into prose. That is why I was shocked with what flowed out of me at a recent Hay House writer’s workshop.  We were given two words to start with – I remember – and one minute to complete a free-writing exercise. They started the timer, I picked up my pen and here is what flowed out.

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I remember lost souls who have come back to live

Whose dense fog has been lifted for all to see, the vulnerability within thee

For those whose time has come and gone 

We must not forget we live on

We hold dear to our hearts what we most fear 

Exposure at our deepest core

Not only are nightingales and robins blessed 

We too have a light that shines from our chest

For it is not a fall from grace when we are lifted on angels’ wings

It’s the whisper from within that shifts us out of our slumber and asks us to do big things

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…Who knew I had that in me?  I sure didn’t.

Grab a piece of paper and a pen.  Set a timer for a minute and let your internal rhythm flow. 

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