Writing Workshop - October 20, 2007

On Saturday, October 20th, I attended a writing workshop led by Prof. Carol Samson. The following are some of my writing from the 'Wild Mind' exercises.

1. Yellow Trees
Yellow like the sun only fading. Yellow like the warmth of day only colder. Yellow trees giving into winter. Yellow trees releasing cover. Yellow trees will soon be bare. Holding, saving, life for another year. Drawing life from earth and water from sky. Holding the dream of someday wearing green. Yellow trees are not sad for they know that life is not ended. Yellow trees release their cover and are not ashamed to stand bare for they know life still courses through every branch of theirs. It is contentment to hold a space in a busy place. Watching as the people run and rush gathering for the winter season. Quietly standing as the wind sweeps in carrying the last yellow leaf away. The yellow tree is not a yellow tree at all - was it a lie? The cold sets in and the colors all change. There is no green, no red - even the day has relinquished it's own hue. Life still courses through. The wind still stirs the sky and sings through the cracks in the window sill. The freshly fallen show shifts and it crunches under foot. The voices of holiday gatherings and family and friends all alive with love and joy. It is a time to reconnect to what really IS. It is not in the color of our leaves, it is in the music of our souls. Life is in what we embrace - it is not what is seen, it is what is felt.

2. Photograph
She stood outside in the sunlight with a sweet innocent smile. The photo is faded, the colors no longer bright or perhaps that is what the photo looked like from the start. The flowers are tall and rise to greet her. It is as though the world stopped for this one joyous moment in the sun. All eyes on her experience. All hope for her every happiness. All day in the sun. The warm beautiful sun. Oh to have stayed in the sun, to have stayed in that warm happy place. There was love. where did it go? Why would the sun have to go away? Where are those who once cheered her every step and hoped for her every great thing? Alone in painful world. Alone and afraid. Burning words - other's self-destruction. Where did the sun go? Eyes shut tight. Laying low, letting the words war over her head. She is still in the sunshine, she is still in that moment of love. She holds on to the sweet scent of the flowers in bloom and she can feel the warmth radiating from the life that fills her from within. Those angry words are not her own and she refuses to let them in. She has her own words tucked safely away and perhaps one day she will let her words soar. They will not destroy or hurt. Her words are like the sun, like warmth, like Band-Aids to cover and hold the wounded together. The sun never went away. The warmth of that day remained with her always and dances in her voice today.

3. Rock
So small - so hard, what must your life be like? What circumstances have brought you to form? Is it hard for others to know you? sometimes I feel that way. Do they overlook you because you do not sing like a bird? Sometimes I feel that way. How do you feel to have life move and chime all around you - and you go unnoticed? What is that you say? Life finds you, when life has no where to go - when there is chaos and souls are lost and anguished? Souls find you? What is that you say? They find comfort in you? I can see that rock. It is the very reason I have this conversation with you today. You listen and do not judge. You do not take offense, you simply let me be as I let you be. It is a mutual gift this conversation we share. Thank you for holding a space in thought for me when I could not sort out my own thoughts. Thank you for showing me the beauty in stillness. I find strength in your presence and I find peace as well. I know you will hold my thoughts in confidence as I hold your ear so dear. Thank you.

4. Lady on the Postcard
So young, so still, so distant and sad. Where are your thoughts? Where are your passions? Are you living the life you dreamed you would as a girl? You wear the clothes of a woman, but I see a sad little girl searching and wondering why this is your life? Sad, weeping, heavy heart. Is there anyone you can talk to? Does anyone hear your voice? Does anyone else look at you and wonder where the joyful child has gone? Prisoner to society's thoughts and beliefs, what about your own? Your voice will not silence, no matter what you wear, no matter how you make your eyes, your hair, your lips. Your voice, your soul, your life pours through your skin and tells the world the story of you. Do not deny or hold your voice back for the walls of your prison will not willingly fall. You must embrace your passion and not forget who you are. You are not the dress, not the colors not the posed picture you appear to be.

5. Look here. Look here. I am holding in my hand something like the color of the sun. Flowers grown in love, angry words and sadness released. Your unique life a picture of you.