Beth Camp Historical Fiction

Friday, September 22, 2017

September 22: Between

Something of beauty:
Isn’t that what we aspire
to make concrete
the indefinable?
Somehow between and
out of the bits and scraps of our lives,
whether hours in an office or at home,
we do create harmony out of chaos.
Yes, sometimes ‘tidy’ will win.
But, who paints
with abandon at 3am?
Who makes the moment come alive
by tracing a line of pine trees
against a star-filled sky?
Or dreams with the tenacity of a writer,
who word-by-word
builds a poem?

Fall at Finch Arboretum

Today's poem came along because I had no time. Meetings ahead. A long list of to-do, longer than I can do today. So I thought of all the times when we work to make space for others and ourselves, those moments that do nurture us.  And somehow this picture I took at Finch Arboretum talks to me of the change of seasons and what we do 'between.'

Please consider joining the month-long poetry challenge that begins October 1 by writing a poem a day. Find out more HERE for OctPoWriMo