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This is my rest day, so I’m gonna sail through the rest of these questions, since I’m doing this early, as my future-sleepy-self.
Since that leads to very little content, I thought I’d also include a copy of a poem I posted two years ago in honor of my mom. Her birthday was a few days ago, and it’s the first one she hasn’t been here to celebrate, which seems rather strange.
This is what I wrote:
Tiny specks of snow dust In dawn’s first early light How can just one snowflake Glow so beautifully bright? The sun from up above Shines down on what’s below, Setting off a fire glint That makes my heart beat slow Fallen flakes don’t hurry, They simply sit real still, Resting where they’ve landed, Surrendered to God’s will Rainbow glints like diamonds Which put my soul at ease, That Your love can warm us Though all around might freeze God in Heaven fill us With Your radiant glow That even in the cold Your glory we may show Birds may peck and squabble And crush a tender flake Heedless to the damage Their bustling movement makes Squirrels may romp and ramble And trample under foot Helpless little snowflakes And where they have been put Wondering why they’re there Frail crystals may protest, “Put me some place safer!” But our Maker knoweth best Looking to the Arctic - Some more conducive place They might sob, “God, save us - we perish with no trace!” It may seem no response Is given to their cry As they start to suffer And then they start to die The same Light that brightens Will also melt them down Like tiny tears of grief Wept fast upon the ground Ugly mud will follow Where white snow once rested In the in between times Hearts are sorely tested But all these things must come And we must say goodbye To each tiny snowflake That captures heart and eye Forlorn days will follow Where life seems hard to bear The bleakness of the weather Will taint each grieving prayer And then one day a bulb Buried beneath the earth Will show its tiny head Reminding us of birth For every mother knows Who bears a girl or boy That sorrow has to come Before there can be joy So, with all Creation A pattern is in place Nothing blooms like a smile Where tears have once been traced Frail and melted crystals Will work with morning beams Green will soon surround us Surprising as it seems And so, we will give thanks For snow that’s gone away For what we thought was loss Brightens each new Spring Day Hyacinths and tulips, Knock-out Rose bushes, too Will bring back tender thoughts, Reminding me of you Daffodils shall stand tall, As Rhododendrons wave, Hydrangeas nod their heads, “She’d want you to be brave.” We may joke of “snowflakes”, And how they’re not real tough, But I smile with wonder, They shine when life is rough When their beauty’s broken, Delicate edges marred, They may want to protest, “Our lot is far too hard.” When heat distills us down And strips all else away, And seeing what remains Fills our hearts with dismay When two parts hydrogen Cannot come up for air And one part oxygen Complains, “Life’s just not fair.” Absolutely distilled, Thinking, “I’ve had enough!” In moments of doubt, we find We’re made of tougher stuff Colors will soon spring forth, Where barrenness once lay A melody will rise, As we give thanks and pray Seasons come and then go, This one will pass us by Sunshine gives rest and joy, And storms may make us cry When summer comes, please smile, Pick “rosebuds while ye may” Don’t long for what you had, Enjoy the sprinkler’s spray For God in Heaven knows Right when to give and take Just when we’ve reached August, It’s time to get a rake! And then some sleepy morn The ground will be made white. Upon the evergreen, Two blue jays will a light One flake among billions Will sparkle in the snow, Capture my attention, And at that time, I’ll know Even though I have lost, The cycle starts anew, Someone will catch my eye, Reminding me of you And how for a season You sparkled among men, Better yet, up above I’ll know you Live again.
It’s been a very cold winter.
My first without my mommy.
I never called her that as an adult before all this; but for some reason, I find myself saying that word now.
I’ve got a scar across my leg from that evergreen tree I mentioned. It got chopped down by the purchasers of my parents’ house, before they’d signed a single paper; but all that’s for another story on another day.
Still, I wonder, where did my mom’s bluebirds go without its protective branches? And what of the hydrangeas, and all the other plants she adored, growing from her little piece of earth, the ones that were dug up and landed in that big red dumpster the first day in forty-eight years for that house belonged to someone else?
And here I am, going back to the story, when i only meant to share my journey to get it to press…
What Did I Accomplish Today to Be a Writer?
Likely response: Took a day off.
What Am I Afraid of Doing Next in My Journey as a Writer?
I’m afraid of not following through on my efforts to write these post – not that I think anybody will notice; but I’ll know.
Stuff I find myself saying: I just need to close my eyes for a couple of minutes.
How Am I Balancing the Different Aspects of Being a Writer?
I’m balancing my writing-world by making sure I take a break at least one day a week to reset my bearings.
What I’m Doing About Building a Body of Work as a Writer
Letting my tired body rest, so I’ll be ready to start re-inspired, tomorrow, helps me build a body of work as a writer.
What I’m Doing to Complete My Manuscripts as a Writer
I’m gearing up for two writing conferences in February, both of which will offer opportunities to make pitches to agents and focus on writing query letters to send to publishers.
What I’m Doing to Grow My Website as a Writer
I’m letting my site run while I rest. I’m aggressive all week – then go passive for at least a day.
What I’m Doing to Build My Blog as a Writer
I’m letting this journal entry post automatically, since I wrote it ahead of time and had it pre-scheduled. Planning a head helps my head.
Not so Fun Fact About Me: I’m not a good listener. I get distracted easily.
What I’m Doing About Networking as a Writer
I’m not working on networking today.
What I’m Doing About Monetization as a Writer
Nothing is happening for me in the realm of monetization for now; but I’ve got some plans for next month (they are way too tentative to tell them yet).
What I’m Doing About Social Media as a Writer
Trying to get used to social media is not something that comes easily for me. It doesn’t seem to be my medium, at least not like plain old typing is.
What I’m Doing About Artificial Intelligence (AI) as a Writer
I don’t know. Shall I ask Chat GPT? I’d rather not.
What I’m Doing to Stay Organized as a Writer
I’m letting my brain shut down and restart for the day, so it’s not so scrambled.
Looking Back at My Writing Journey
I’m hoping to look at my writing journey through the back of my eyelids, while I take a nap.
Any Other Thoughts on Becoming a Writer, Random Rants, Tales, or Trials…
Everybody needs a day off every now and again. I’m grateful for a day to get refreshed.
Thanks for reading what I’m writing,
To read more of the story behind my poem, please click the story about Borrow Ponds below:
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