The Summer I Decided to Write My Book
This poem came last night, as I was cooking dinner, and I was thinking of how much cooking I've done this summer. I'm not someone who naturally loves cooking - but I have come to like the grounded feel of it, the slicing of onions, the chopping of cilantro and the satisfying crunch as I crush the garlic clove with the heel of my knife. I like honoring food. I like honoring the earth. I like giving care to others through food. And so I cook.
The ending of the poem surprised me, and had me gasping in delight. Of course, I thought. Of course. The poem led me there.
The Summer I Decided to Write My Book
My son and his friends claimed my back
porch for poker nights. The wolf pack,
once gangly boys, now muscled men,
tower over me as I pass out cold drinks
and slices of watermelon. And I understand
why they named my backyard as their lair,
with the sunflower forest and large wooden table,
no little brothers barging in or younger sisters needing quiet.
I hand over steaming plates of lasagna and cookie sheets of warm tortillas,
point to the taco fillings on the stove.
I make another jar of sun tea and drive to the grocery store.
I refill the jar and drive to the store again.
I feed my sons and their abundant appetites,
I feed my daughter who lives abroad but who
spends a month with us in the states.
And I've written some, but I mostly laugh
at how much of it is grocery lists, even as I groan
when the fridge empties again. After twenty nine years
of mothering I'm learning to surrender –
to open to the particular magic of the day before me,
to play the hand I've been dealt and not the one I wish
I had. And I'm learning to remember, for far too soon
the house will be quiet, the back porch empty,
and mornings will stretch before me to hold the writing
to come, queens of possibility I draw from the deck.
But this summer – the summer I'd hoped to write –
I've been dealt a full house. And a full house,
as any poker player knows, is a good hand.
I want to play it well.
“Play allows us a safe distance as we work on what’s close to our hearts.” - Mr. Rogers
Join me for the next session of Gathering Ourselves, September 25th
If you’re looking for a warm, supportive space to say yes to all you are, I invite you to join me and my co-facilitator, Tamara Neufeld Strijack, for Gathering Ourselves.
Gathering Ourselves is a creativity circle to gently explore what's alive in us. We use imagery, poems, children's books, songs, prompts, and our own creative expression – whether it’s collage, writing, drawing or more – to nurture a more generous, compassionate relationship with our inner world.
You don’t have to think of yourself as creative or a writer to come - merely a desire to show up and play.
Our next gathering is on Friday, September 25th from 10 am to 1 pm Pacific time/11 am to 2 pm Mountain/12 to 3 pm Central/1 to 4 pm Eastern/6 to 9 pm London time.
These circles are sacred spaces where we can let down, be, and rest for a while. I'm so moved by how tender we are with each other and the way we strengthen our relationship with ourselves.
If you feel moved to join us, we'd love to have you!
O Nobly Born is a reader supported newsletter. If you appreciate receiving the poems of O Nobly Born, you can bless this offering by subscribing to the newsletter (click on the red button below) or make a donation by credit card or through paypal at paypal@growinghumankindness.com. I cherish every donation, as they support this work and enable me to offer her freely to all.
With a grateful heart, Karly
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