Five Things

[owasco]

Reduced human contact
forces one to look for friendship

closer to home -
in the home

Love the house centipedes
for they are allies

Love the snakes under the porch
they are in this with us

Love the treetops especially the treetops
who speak whenever spoken to

Love the stone that beckons

During my first moments of enchantment
I had a passing thought:
“What if I am in danger?”
Entertaining that thought
would break the spell of wonder
so I banished it
Buh Bye thoughts of danger!
Hello my dear friends state of wonder!

“What is this feeling?” I asked myself that first time

Hours later
worrying about this and that
I understood

it was the absence of fear

Lucky me!
While so much of the world lives in fright
I feel less fear

When I open my mouth to speak
I know a clarity of thought
a certainty of being
unimpeded by judgment of, or by, others
and surprise!
out comes what needs to be said

I have given myself permission to stand apart
from everyone and everything that binds me

As I untie these binds
I see they are all illusion
easily shed
The controls slide from my wrists -
caresses now -
they want to be free too

Before,
I saw many problems
Now I see none

I move forward
with purposeful efficiency
back to our beginning

Pure Love

This is my answer to @ecotrain's Question of the Week. I thought to write about only five things, but, as writing often goes, I went into the wild blue yonder and there are far more than five here. An infinite number in fact.

There are always blessings, always. There is always joy. Covid has helped me find joy in specks of dust.
Join me.

The image is mine.

Comments

[eco-alex]

really beautiful, thank you for sharing this!

[owasco]

Thank you for your appreciation! It's so important for us to not be afraid. All is well.

[prydefoltz]

Loving this post from top to bottom.

Awesome:)

[owasco]

You know how you start out knowing, somehow, what you want to say but all that comes out is gibberish? Hours of rewriting, culling, rearranging and touch ups, and eventually a good thing takes shape. I am so happy you love it, thank you.

[plantstoplanks]

This hit me in the heart @owasco. All the feels right now. Especially...

Covid has helped me find joy in specks of dust.

Thank you for your unique perspective to bring such beauty to the prompt.

[owasco]

And thank you for your lovely comment. Feels right back atcha.

[farm-mom]

Beautiful poem. Really true..."there are always blessings"
Love that.

[owasco]

And joy is always within reach. Thank you for stopping by!

[zeleiracordero]

Said in your own way, but my feeling. Sister, we are connected. My inner self greets and honors you. Your writing is magnificent.

[owasco]

How sweet. The admiration is mutual!

[logiczombie]

As I untie these binds
I see they are all illusion
easily shed
The controls slide from my wrists -
caresses now -
they want to be free too

[carolkean]

Same passage I excerpted when I shared this to Twitter!

[senorcoconut]

Awesome! Moving forward and seeing no problems 😁! And it's true the snakes are in it with us too

[ecotrain]

Thank you so much for this post on the Question Of the Week! Coronavirus can be a heavy topic and it was so good to see such a great positive post on the topic. THANK YOU! Together we can get through this with a smile.

Your post has been featured in our weekly tie up post, you can see it here and check out some other people who posted:

https://peakd.com/hive-123046/@ecotrain/ecotrain-question-of-the-week-tie-up-post-26-name-5-positive-consequences-of-covid19

[owasco]

Why thank you so much for the feature!

[lizelle]

Beautiful thoughts and poetry @owasco!

[carolkean]

Ooh, I hear echoes of the immortal Walt Whitman (Leaves of Grass, Song of Myself) - love it!

I have given myself permission to stand apart
from everyone and everything that binds me
As I untie these binds
I see they are all illusion
easily shed

[owasco]

I just came across, and packed, my copy of Leaves of Grass. Thanks for that comparison! aw shucks!

[carolkean]

I should write a blog post about Whitman but I don't know what hive to post from anymore!
This scholar explains it so well:

he images the “past and present” as wilted plants, once alive and sentient but now withered and emptied of presence, of life. The moment of “Now” incessantly empties the past and present in order to open a new “fold of the future,” which becomes the ever-emerging moment of presence. In a later poem called “Unfolded Out of the Folds,” Whitman imagined all of life as a series of unfoldings, just as every new life and identity is “unfolded” out of “the folds of the woman.” Each and every moment is a new birth, a new world of Now unfolding before the awake senses of all those who are embodied in that moment.

As we read Whitman’s book, we are also aware of the “folds” of the pages, and, as we read each one and fold it over to confront the next, we are enacting in the process of reading the continual, literal unfolding of new moments, new ideas, new encounters, new sections of the poem.

Section 51
The past and present wilt—I have fill'd them, emptied them.
And proceed to fill my next fold of the future.
Listener up there! what have you to confide to me?
Look in my face while I snuff the sidle of evening,
(Talk honestly, no one else hears you, and I stay only a minute longer.)
Do I contradict myself?
Very well then I contradict myself,
(I am large, I contain multitudes.)
I concentrate toward them that are nigh, I wait on the door-slab.
Who has done his day's work? who will soonest be through with his supper?
Who wishes to walk with me?
Will you speak before I am gone? will you prove already too late?

https://iwp.uiowa.edu/whitmanweb/en/writings/song-of-myself/section-51

[carolkean]

More from WhitmanWeb with professors Folsom and Merrill

The air has turned colder, and the leaves on the oaks are yellowing. A friend once showed me a maple leaf with red veins radiating from its stem, like a blush spreading across someone’s face, and said, “If you can’t write poems in autumn, you’re not a poet.” Season of contradictions: the orange blaze of pumpkins in a patch of spent stalks; a farmer sowing winter wheat; a basket of tulip bulbs ready for planting. Death and renewal: these are the double doors through which we pass again and again, according to Whitman, inscribed and inscribing.

[owasco]

This is all really beautiful Carol. Thanks so much. How do you do all you do?!

Love that line if you can't write poems in autumn, you are not a poet.

But Whitman! holy cow it's been awhile since I read any of his work, and I appreciate it much more now. Maybe you've chosen just the right pieces for me, but these are stunning to me today.

BTW, you are prescient. Freddy has put on a lot of weight, and your painting of him looks exactly like him now.

[carolkean]

Ohhhhh Freddy.... gaining weight so my portrait would be more accurate. He did this on purpose, you know.
LOL
I love that cat!
Glad the Whitman hits the spot today. I'm smitten with Whitman.
And Dylan Thomas, and Gerard Manley Hopkins, and a haiku master known as owasco. :)

[owasco]

you are my #1 fan. xo

[carolkean]

Interesting, the hive community you posted from - I hadn't heard of it until now!

@ecotrain is a global Hive community gathered around the concept of natural giving, living in harmony with nature and making our world a better place. Changing the world starts with changing ourselves and the way we live, love, work and create together as communities .

Sign me up!
I'm on a rampage lately, opposed to all the tin cans, jars, lids, plastic and packaging that our food comes in. I'm ready to take up #homesteading, learn to can (the Ball canning manual is daunting!) and freeze and dehydrate, because the apocalypse seems nearer every month. Who can forget shelves empty of toilet paper and bleach? Meh. I need a herd of goats more than I need a Christmas tree this year....

[owasco]

Thanks for the tweet too!

[poshbot]