Ric's Poetry Open Mic 6 December 2016

Hello everyone,

The rains continue drenching my garden beds that lie naked in standing water. What grew in sunshine and warmth of longer daylight hours is absent now from the view through my window.  Alongside on the walkway, thick moss builds up in cushioned patterns--dense, low and vibrantly green.  The key to all golf course greens lies in the amount of water. I conclude.  No wonder there are some that look like deserts all year 'round and others, like my moss garden!

Another month of shorter days before we turn about at the Solstice towards the lengthening daylight.  We still have time, though, to settle deeply within, to search for something that this longer darkness might offer to those who pay attention to seasons, timing, relationship to themselves and others and to the context of life itself.

And the rain keeps giving.  In waves, like an oscillating sprinkler pelting rhythmically against my window. Its dependability has begun to center me with its consistency and intensity.  At times, with an urgency that suggests perhaps, just perhaps, it is time to write.

I wrote a poem about rain the first winter I lived here.  I had no idea of rain's constancy and volume until these last few days.  Perhaps more poems about rain will be born this week.  Someone told me recently that Scorpio's were Valentine creations.  "Ah," I said back.  And laughed.  All these years, I wondered about all the Scorpios in my family!  I might have another go at a rain poem if the monsoon pelting my windows doesn't give way a tad bit.

See you soon, fellow writers--inspired by whatever pushes you to your edge!

Our Sixth  "Ric's Poetry Mic".

Please mark your calendars for the coming week:
Date: Tuesday, 6 December 2016

See you soon fellow writers.  Be well and inspired.

Cheers,

Kat