“There is a harmony in autumn, and a lustre in its sky, which through the summer is not heard or seen, as if it could not be, as if it had not been!” ~ Percy Bysshe Shelley
There’s deep serene perched on clear blue skies of an autumn day. The kind of calm with an aura of authority, even the hurried and flustered lower the pace. Lake clasps the moment and welcomes the sun to shine. Peace and solitude occupy space, not only by the lakeside but in every breath taken and released.
Earthy and fresh, nature puts on a spectacular display. Red and gold leaves; a majestic fall. How can a warbler ask for a poem, when it already knows the song in my heart? How can it ask, for every autumn leaf falling is poetry!
A smile glows; a heart filled with gratitude for Autumn and I have a mutual understanding. Ours was an obscure relationship at first, for Summer led me believe I was her baby. Because down south, October is one of those simmering months spring overlapping with summer.
But, October loved me before I was born. Now Autumn, generous, opens her arms and calls a name. It is to this silence and peace, I respond.
process note: As I celebrate another birthday, I take a closer look at how nature continues to inspire and help me put things into perspective. And I can’t help but be grateful.
O Solitude! If I must with thee dwell, Let it not be among the jumbled heap of murky buildings ~ John Keats
I will admit, for me, writing poetry is difficult. It is such an emotional form of writing; it contains, conveys and escapes emotion all at the same time.
This means I do not wake up early in the mornings, sit at my desk, rub palms of my hands together with glee, and think now I’m going to write a poem. It doesn’t happen, it never happens, and how great it would be to achieve this one day! Because great writers or accomplished artists do not wait for inspiration, right?
Well, I do not wait for inspiration but I’m no great writer. I rely on empathy. In order for me to capture a moment, emotion or whatever else makes a poem, I have to feel deeply. And there’s a lot (beautiful and ugly) to feel in the world we live in. It is this build-up of emotion that eventually leads me to write with urgency. The reward; a release, whether significant or subtle, makes it all worth it.
I’m sure you reckon: this feeling, this empathy, the emotion and the release, delights and liberates yet exhausts. And so, when it all becomes too much, I seek solitude. Not so much to shut down the noise but to listen to my inner voice.
Note: Thank you all who read me (whilst I took time out to breathe) for your understanding, support and kind comments. Much appreciated.
Sanaa Rizvi at Prompt Nights expresses this thought successfully “Rest is the sweet sauce of labour”.