“Poetry is a type of literature, or artistic writing, that attempts to stir a reader’s imagination or emotions. The poet does this by carefully choosing and arranging language for its meaning, sound, and rhythm.”
I am a poet.
I am a poet
a meaning maker
a lover of language
I am in awe
of the profound power
of the tiniest words strung together
~M. James, July 6, 2020
I am amazed at the pleasure I experience by crafting these simple poems. It is the meaning making that most enthralls and feeds me.
I’m struck by the realization that all my writing is about making meaning. It makes no difference if it is a poem, a note, an observation about a child in my classroom, or an entry in my journal. I work — so I’ve discovered — with the heart and soul of a poet, always looking for the beautiful and powerful meaning in every moment.
Poets, I’ve learned, sometimes notice and acknowledge meaning, and at other times we assign it — creating symbols in our own personal mythology. Part of my mythology involves fireflies. I love them. They always remind me of pleasant nights from my childhood, in my backyard, surrounded it seemed, by the dancing lights of the fireflies.
I was reminded of this the other day. My brother and I were on a late day hike, and as dusk fell, we walked past a field flush with fireflies. I was immediately transported back to those peaceful, awe and joy filled evenings of my youth. We stopped for a moment, and I put out my hand to once again trap one of those beautiful creatures. Amazingly, I got one on my first try.
When I returned home, I decided to speak the meaning of that moment, and the simple firefly, into existence and remembrance.
Fireflies and Messages
on and off
in the darkness,
As I stand
appears less dark
Is that shadow
of a firefly?
In anticipatory hope
my hand glides
through the lightened darkness
In a moment of intuition
I gently close my hand
hoping to seize that flash of light
Slowly I open my fingers
and gaze within
a firefly walks across my palm
We look at each other
he has let himself be caught
on and off
in the palm of my hand
he lifts his wings and is gone
~M. James July 5, 2020
What beautiful poetry and reflection on it. The way you make meaning with your words is powerful. I’m so glad you share your poems–and the poetry course! I signed up for this week, and although I have never called myself a poet, I like this way of noticing the world.
Thanks!!! So glad you signed up for the course. Hope you are enjoying it and creating some poetry. I really like it as a way of noticing the world too! AND, lol, it takes some of the pressure off the poetry itself when I remind myself it’s about seeing the world.
Beautiful, Molly! My friend just renamed his new yoga studio “Fyrefly.” I have fond memories of fireflies, ladybugs, and dandelions from childhood. So simple then…hope you are well. Sending you joy!
Lovely memories, aren’t they? Thanks for the joy 🙂
Love the poems, Molly. Fireflies are such a symbol of hope in the darkness. The painting is BEAUTIFUL.
😁 hope in the darkness! Yes!!! Love that. Thanks about the painting. It’s actually a photo that I worked on in Photoshop, but now that you said it I want to try it with real paints.