In praise of process
This morning over coffee, my husband and I worry over his mother's health.
One thread leads to another and mothers are on my mind.
Washing dishes, I think of my mother and how her voice, when she telephoned, strained for light. I've heard the same searching tone in a friend lately. Her mother passed away and her days have turned slow and dark. Last year, another friend lost her mother abruptly.
At the kitchen counter, I wipe up crumbs and jot a line. Fold laundry, jot another. I feel the zing of ideas swirling, words forming. The physical act of writing, combined with the mental and emotional rush of words, creates an adrenalin faith. Words rise and bubble, catch air, gasp for more, multiply.
I don't know if a poem will arise from these disconnected places but I am forever grateful for the process, for the reverent way words form an altar of hope.
Wednesday, April 28, 2010 at 2:16PM
Reader Comments (4)
Hi Drew. Hope your mother in law feels better soon.
Just wanted to thank you for your kind note, and let you know that I'm carrying your poem around in my pocket today! What a gift.
January! Thank you so much. I'm honored (and a bit giddy, too) that you are carrying my poem in your pocket. AND, thanks so much for posting the poem on your blog. You are very generous and kind. Thank you.
Drew, my thoughts today for you and the mothers in your life. I'm printing this post and putting it in my pocket as today's searching poem.
All my best to you,
Auburn
Auburn,
Always appreciate you checking in and leaving kindness.
thanks!