A few hours in the garden, yesterday, dirt under my fingernails, pruning the hydrangeas with their budding leaves. Always a hurt to cut new growth, but if I don’t now, the blossoms will bow even lower come August, on too long & spindly legs.
Poetry has been slow to show, the last week or so. Haven’t been working on new, have been revising a bit, organizing. Thinking about future projects, pondering. Always a bit of procrastination, too. But I trust growth will spurt again.
I have to trust process. Tiny crocus find their sun.
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I like to think of poetry as a garden too, there needs to be time for things to be dormant or pruned as much as a time for growth….
I love my garden time, CGP, reminds me of so many things. It’s quite meditative for me.
I’m not keen on dormancy, but it something to embrace.
Love the garden/poetry comparison. I’ve been thinking of poetry as exercising lately, as that’s what I’ve been putting my physical efforts toward. I’ve been running & poeting consistently for a while now, and a lot of it is ugly, sweaty, and stinky. But in the end, I’m a long ways off from where I started. I hope that counts for something. ;)
I like your comparison! (I could use a little more sweating in general — I always feel better with exercise & it’s been in too low a supply.)
I think movement & motion counts, too! It’s a clever analogy, Elizabeth.
Poetry has been slow for me, too. A pain, really. Someday I will remember how to do it.
Yes. Yes you will.
poetry is a garden,
what fresh and cute idea,
timeless photos of purple flowers,
loved the post so very much, ;)
Nice to find U, ;)
Thanks, Jingle.