Poetry Friday is with Doraine at Dori Reads.
I joined a Facebook poetry writing group created by Laura Shovan. We wrote poems during the month of February to ten found words from news articles. So many of us didn’t want it to end, so Laura extended the project. Each month one member puts up a prompt of 10 found words. This month Heather Meloche posted a spring poem by Rainer Maria Rilke.
EARLY SPRING
Harshness vanished. A sudden softness
has replaced the meadows’ wintry grey.
Little rivulets of water changed
their singing accents. Tendernesses,hesitantly, reach toward the earth
from space, and country lanes are showing
these unexpected subtle risings
that find expression in the empty trees.
–Rilke
Heather’s selected words quickly came together in a poem for me. The practice of writing poetry is a mystery. Sometimes I can write, scratch out, rework, search for the just right word, and still end up with nothing worthy of sharing. But this poem wrote itself. I love it when that happens, so I continue to scratch each day and celebrate when the small miracles appear.
The Dance
Suddenly, my hardness of heart vanished
into the meadow of his eyes. My gaze traveled
rivulets of tender tears watering the earth.
Tree rises from the soggy ground like a goddess
holding her arms out in expression of pure joy.
We danced in the softness of her embrace.–Margaret Simon
Reflections on the Teche 
I love those rare moments, when poems just seem to form themselves on the page, and all you have to do is guide your pen and let the words flow. Quiet miracles indeed!
Gorgeous, Margaret. I can see it as if it were a video playing in my imagination. A beautiful love story.
Margaret, you were right when you said that this poem wrote itself (or better yet your heart wrote this poem). The poem is a celebration of dance that lifted me off to a beautiful vision. Well done! Thanks for reminding me to check Laura’s Feb. site.
Wow! That’s a poem that takes one’s breath away. I love that the tree is a woman with outstretched arms.
When a poem writes itself (as you say), you can feel your heart and pen meeting on the page. I love The Dance — I feel like there is a lifetime of love and joy and sorrow in those few lines.
Such a good feeling, when something authentic and powerful flies out, especially from someone else’s list of words. This is indeed one good reason to keep working through the duller days of effort!
So full of love…
Wonderful poem. I missed the Rilke. I haven’t been on FB much lately.
Beautiful, Margaret. I love that something can be so fine that one dances, perhaps only in the heart, yet ‘dancing’ is such a wonderful description.
Beautiful! I love it when the words flow, but it is a moment to be savored since it doesn’t happen often.
Both are beautiful! I love Rilke, but your poem that wrote itself is beautiful, too.
“The practice of writing poetry is a mystery.” Truer words were never spoken! I’m always amazed at the different directions these found poems take. Yours is gorgeous, Margaret.
“The practice of writing poetry is a mystery” Exactly how I feel. Love the image of the tree.
What a beautiful poem you’ve penned, Margaret! From hardness to softness, from meadow to soggy, from tears to dancing – nice!