Chazinator has given us an interesting prompt for dversepoets critique and craft – filling in the gaps . Usually I like the mystery a poet gives us… and that wonderful feeling of being able to walk in a world they have created and I guess fill the gaps the way we like… which in a sense is a little self-indulgent… and in doing so there is a danger in missing something the poet intended, or in not giving the poem its due. It certainly gave me reason to rethink my way of looking at poetry today.
I’m not sure… if this is the intention of the prompt but for the most part I like to use simple language in my poems, so they really do give an insight into the thought processes and influences behind them. So I’ve chosen another poem, this is the second part of a poem I posted a while ago…I wrote this one around the same time but as yet haven’t posted it… both poems I think are different to what I would usually write. Promise of Rain was inspired by a dream that had left vivid images that lingered with me while I was awake and for whatever the reason didn’t let go. So I decided to write about it, this is the second part and I used some images from a short story I wrote years ago in this one…the inspiration for the short story was also a dream.
I found it difficult to write an actual poem about the writing process of this poem…or the thoughts behind it or even why I write…possibly because I don’t fully understand why I write other than I just feel compelled to get what affects me down on paper in some way. So not sure whether or not I am being truthful to the prompt this week or if I’ve effectively filled in the gaps. Anyway, I have found it a thought-provoking exercise that will give me something to think about each time I put pen to paper.
The first part of this poem is here Promise of Rain
Promise of Rain Part 2
How did these trees wake me to your presence?
for you emerged from the whispers of magic
a spirit, a passion, for me to ride
raw, brutal and exciting
as I fall upon the forest floor
feeling the cool softness,
of leaves pressing into my back
the sweet scent of moist earth surrounding me
your arms, branches that enfold me
with moments of surprise
while the leaves seem to flick open ,
eyes aware of every inch of myself
an enigma you strip bare
the horses break free of their riders
galloping silently into the bush
I rise, magic dust falls
glitter from a child’s painting
set in the pile of the carpet,
specks of memories, reinforced
with the knowledge, there is more
than the promise of rain