Glad sunrise to you on April 5th, this 5th day of National Poetry Month, 2018/USA!
The Kidlitosphere poem-in-progress 2018 sprouts here this moment,
a day-by-day bud of felt beauty. It unfolded last weekend
while I rose for an Atlantic sunrise. The butter water
reflection wrapped me in morning meditations before
driving home from being with heart-love Elders,
(with no cottage WiFi)
on the other side of our state.
I carry this heart tug into today’s visit with
the boundless creativity of my poetry pals:
2018 April Poetry Month Progressive Poem
Nestled in her cozy bed, a seed stretched.
Oh, what wonderful dreams she had had!
Blooming in midnight moonlight, dancing with
the pulse of a thousand stars, sweet Jasmine
invented a game.
We invite you to dream with these lines!
And also, to conjure: Where may these words wander from here?
Tomorrow, a new line is due to pop up from the fertile lake territory of Irene Latham,
instigator of this once-a-year collaborative of writing creativity,
who is sweet-with-moxie poetry pal to us all.
To think on a Progressive Poem process question from Irene,
about a catalyst/origin of each of our lines,
here’s how I reacted on when I saw the important first-line opening from Liz:
Nestled in her cozy bed, a seed stretched
I love thinking about this little package planted in her bed. And thinking: what bed? The earthy dirt like in our yard here, where we’ve just put in the basil seeds? Or a big big patio pot? Or in a hothouse greenhouse in Alaska?
I’m a constant internal line rhymer so also a list:
seed: bead, heed, lead, need, plead
& bed – led, wed, said,
Then, looking at Michelle’s line, naming our seed,
immediately that line
sent me a vision.
A Jasmine girl character,
wafting up in pantaloons out of a
fragrant full-flowering vine
with a most mischievous look in her eyes
& I knew she was an inventor. I knew in that instant that sweet Jasmine
invented a game.
Invents, or invented?
Took my cue from that great first line…stretched.
So what say you, dear Irene?
I would like to know NOW (6 PM-ish Wed.)
But I will wait to the Friday morn when you are on stage.
Irene need not keep my mind-image. I didn’t write
that into the poem; that picture brought me into the line.
Jasmine may very well be yet a seed about to undergo
an under-dirt metamorphosis. Her game could be something
she invents in a dream, or that is/was taught to her… how? why?
Or… who knows? This is the jolly nature of our
one-a-day-writer go-go juicy juice.
It could be scary
to hand off the next day’s duty
to 2018 Progressive Poem’s idea-creator, except
for the knowing that we are all one heart in this.
Irene will clothe this poem ever-unexpectedly,
with love & beauty. And perhaps with a dollop of her signature
Now some more appreciations also, with a
sprinkle of the choicest rich organic poem-starter on top,
to the brave beginners:
I love their heart handiwork in this verse garden.
And still more smiles to Irene for setting
us on our way with the first PP & adding new ideas, foretold recently with Heidi,
in sharing process, with this, the latest.
Please visit us all the poem grow days, until sweet Doriane in my sister state,
Georgia, sings us home.
And a reference note for all you dedicated researchers,
& curious poem-makers,
yes, we can grow jasmine vine from seed. And of course, we can
grow anything, any which way we want, in
the pleasure of poetry.
After Easter I arrived home at our little yellow cottage,
tucked under a grandmother live oak tree,
30-40 minutes close to the gulf shore, five hours from the Atlantic,
into a whirl of wanted work,
plus a warbling once-in-a-lifetime song workshop & then
& a differently great biz dinner for my hubby.
Now I catch up. And if you look in the Poetry Friday universe for Spiritual Thursday,
– that’s today! – I am so pleased to say it is kindly collected at the Carol V. Home page.
For great links to all 2018 Progressive Poem Contributors.
I am primed to visit all the Progressive Poem days’ yet-unknown, lines.
And also, I want to visit the many Poetry Month Projects beyond the Progressive Poem which aretastily presented at our own Jama’s Alphabet Soup. My Poetry Month project is to catch up on my big heart project, the history-set verse novel & to present fun, young-age performance poetry this month, promised here at the bottom of SNOWBALL.