This week the weather has turned to rain, rain, rain. The fog is hovering. Humidity high. Winter blues making me down. But then there is poetry.
Poetry saves me. I am empowered and energized by having written something. Every day, no matter the weather, I can write a poem.
Elfchen has been my go-to form. I’m writing a few everyday. It’s such a nice compact form that can contain all of my emotions and balance my mood. Here’s one from my notebook.
January 25, 2024
Margaret Simon, 1/25/24 draft
Truth
comes in
times of silence
contemplating the thrumming rain
Presence.
I’ve signed up for The Stafford Challenge which is basically a commitment to write daily as William Stafford did. Here’s a poem about wanting to sleep in. It makes me smile.
You Do Not Have to be Good*
(*Mary Oliver “Wild Geese”)You do not have to wake at 4 AM
to feed the cats
mewing at the back door.
Cats are survivors.Turn over, go back to sleep–
the most delicious sleep comes
in the wee hours of the morning
in the whisper of the heater
under the warm blanket
his breathing, slow and steady.Stretch your cramping foot.
Discuss with yourself how the day will go
if you just sleep a little more.Dream, perhaps,
Margaret Simon, draft
in this liminal space
of sacred meditation.
Lie with yourself;
Tell her to calm down.
The cats can wait.
How is your January going? Doesn’t it feel like such a long month? I hope you are writing yourself through it. And staying warm.
Reflections on the Teche 
Your post and poem are hitting hard today, a day that is dawning cloudy and rainy (AGAIN) in the 50s (ridiculous coming so close after our single-digit cold) with a cat marching into the bedroom minutes after the clocks chimed 5:00am to yell me out of bed to feed him! Unlike you, I answered the call of the cat. 🙂
Most annoying, yet we keep them around. Maybe because they are throw pillows (ala Amy LV).
Ha! Love your MO inspired piece, Margaret! Why is it so hard sometimes to give ourselves permission to simply care for ourselves?? And Linda’s postcard is divine! xo
I love that morning awake time when you can linger in dreams for just a few more minutes. Thanks, Margaret.
Margaret, “truth comes in times of silence” made me take a deep breath and relax. Such beautiful artwork from Linda! Reminds me of Maurice Sendak’s art.
Hey, Margaret. I’ve been crabby about the cold weather, but certainly poetry cheers me up. I’ll have to look into the Stafford Challenge. You’ve captured the coziness of an early winter morning, and may we all aspire to ignoring the cat at that time!
Oh gosh, I LOVE the negotiation – so gentle! The cats will be fine! Just love this. The Nevermores are writing about January this week, too.
Oh Margaret – your poems are both perfect for me – I am working so hard at pausing this year! And, with a new cat in my life, the early morning wake ups are such a thing. My darling is a house cat so she likes to sit on my head and purr int he wee small hours which is almost cute. These lines in your poem are so tender and perfect:
“the whisper of the heater
under the warm blanket
his breathing, slow and steady”
Good luck with the new cat. We close ours into the kitchen at night, but sometimes her mews echo through the house.
Margaret, what lovely poems you are writing in this cold January. Did you read a recent email from Pádraig Ó Tuama? He quotes “Thirty days has September, April…etc.,” to “except February…etc.” but the last line was “And January, which has a thousand.” You’re feeling that these days. What a joy to have poetry to energize and save. Isn’t this the truth,
“the most delicious sleep comes
in the wee hours of the morning”
I hope you have a great sleep tonight!
I’m waking up to the lovely comment after 9 hours of sleep! Friday nights are golden in rainy January.
Another new poetry form. That’s two this round-up, and I have been missing that. You and I are so same-but-different. We have been steaming here; high temps and higher humidity. But the rain that was predicted, went inland, instead. Here is an elfchen for you.
We
slip through
hot days on
a slick of sweat;
swimming.
They
forecast rain.
But the clouds
don’t listen to weathermen;
downcast.
(Also, I get my best sleep of a morning!)
It is interesting how we have the total opposite weather in January. To me, the definition of January is rain. Of course, it used to be August as well, but we had a drought this past summer. Thanks for writing elfchen for me. Aren’t they fun to do?!
Love this: “Poetry saves me.” Yep!
Ups and downs surface this January and of course those affect my sleep and health. You are right, Margaret. Poetry is a soothing saver. Your poems are soothers also=> in this liminal space
of sacred meditation.
Lie with yourself;
Both of your poems are lovely, but oh my goodness – that second one really resonates for me! The language paints a vivid picture, and I love that you’re explore that “liminal space” of the “wee hours” of the morning. And those last 3 lines? Just wonderful!
Oh, yes…how the day will go if I just sleep a little more. I like how this poem is in 2nd person. It gives it a distance but also draws my experience in.
Hooray for a go-to form! It helps, doesn’t it? Just tap into that feeling of poetry quickly with a form you know by heart. I’m seeing lots more elfchens these days which I like.
January is a month of contemplation, more than July. I could feel the quiet thoughtfulness in your poem and deciding the cats can wait.
I love this poem giving permission to us all to not be quite so dang good!
May poetry continue to help you navigate this season…