Could it be that my renegade heart wasn’t paying attention? Just when I thought the warm days would never cease days of sitting, tracing clouds — clouds that had somewhere else to be days of cat naps and dreamy languor of prancing bare-legged, running into sprinklers, of looking for the shade as the day oozed by, hour after hour; days too bright, too humid, that the cottage-trees’ moss, in their short hair-cuts, tossed encouragement at the Impatience that had stopped smiling. Could it be that my renegade heart wasn’t paying attention? Just when I thought the warm days would never cease one insect-eaten leaf slowly separates and drops from the tree that leaf, the first one to notice the thermostat drop the day length shorten; intelligently called forth its strength to activate the abscission process. Just when I thought the season would never cease, a salacious wind comes and lifts my skirt. I shiver, embarrassed, and turn just in time to see the leaf levitate and coax another leaf to play. Could it be that this idea of letting go is a seed planted within us? Could it be that, like in nature, we are to call forth strength to activate the abscission process— to let go to grow? It could be. It could be. *** © 2021 selmamartin.com
This post is for dVerse Poetics – Dungeons and Derivatives hosted by the great
Sanaa. Letting go is NOT a derivative for healing per se, but it could be. No? Maybe.
But it’s a close contender to breaking free, and defying constrictions, methinks.
You push me hard and I land hard in places I wouldn’t have visited. I love it.
Thanks so much. Happy fall, happy falling…
Speaking of Seasons:
Growing up, I only knew one season — Tropical. Well, until I learned and came
to understand about migrating creatures in Civics Class. Yup, Civics!
In Science Class, we covered the basics of the seasons. But unaware of how
seasons related to me--down there in the Caribbean--the lesson went over my
head.
But in Civics Class, when we were learning about governments and citizens of
the world, I remember my teacher emphasizing and making us aware of the
migrating birds and the influx of migrating tourists who came to visit.
Those tourists had
their own set of rights,
and
their internal tuning
seemed to work
differently than ours.
And,
what we knew
as any-other-day,
they called them summers!
Our summers were never too hot for them!
My curiosity was piqued.
And so, in Civics Class
is where I let go of what I knew
and learned about
the seasons.
“Could it be that this
idea of letting go is a
seed planted within us?”
“Could it be that this idea of healing is a seed that has been planted within us?” – October, as leaves fall patiently by Sanaa Rizvi
Thanks for reading.
Photo: Image by Free-Photos from Pixabay
I’m a simple woman who dares to see the beauty in ordinary. I’d love to connect with you and like pen pals, I want something beautiful to blossom between us. Will you join me? Selma is my middle name. Its meaning—peaceful, complete, are euphoric affirmations I like to think of myself as having. They compliment the joy I feel when I write. I sincerely hope you decide to join me on my writing journey. I Wish You Miracles.
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Hi
Dear Selma lovely lines. It’s
🥰
How are you? What time there now?
Minutes before 2pm on Wednesday. Now I need to go out for a much-needed brisk walk.
What you up to?
Wow, I love the association of your civics class with your poem. Incredible. 🙂 You’ve woven both the requirements of the prompt. Well done!
Wow, Kitty. Thanks. You honor me with this comment. Gratitude 💕
You are welcome, Selma. 🙂
You nailed this one Selma … without ‘letting go’ one cannot fully heal so it is a prerequirement. What a magical childhood but I guess you live in the northern hemisphere now.
Yes Magical, Kate. A blessing indeed.
Thanks for reading. I bless you.
my pleasure Selma, take care !
I do think we need to ‘let go to grow’ – of so many things. Wonderful parallels you find in nature here, especially as you grew up in a land without seasons. I often wonder if I would be better suited to not having seasons – I get depressed in winter, though it does inspire my poetry!
Winter is the romantic season of poets — ehem, as if poets needed a season for that. But you must agree, the muse draws closer in winter.
Sorry to hear you get depressed in winter. Wish I could say something to help. But the inspiration that comes is a good thing to have. Keep going, friend. Here’s looking at you with admiration. Thanks for reading.
Thank you Selma – I’ll try not to let the cold get me down!
Love the way you compare the seasonal change along with the changes we need to make in life. One thing though I’m glad summer is about to be over because I love winter 😁
By far, one of your best! Your growth as a writer gifts us all.
Kathryn, your words are a blessing. Your words give me hope. Thanks so much my friend.
Letting go = healing to the max. Selma, this is an exquisite poem. So many wonderful lines, turns of phrasing. Your ‘summery’ descriptors are luscious / I too never want summer to end. And the way you introduced winter on its way ~~~ I’m not dreading it quite as much. I am now on the third read of your poem ….. cheers.
Exquisite, you said, Helen— third read, you said, Helen and I just about melted with delight. Your words are precious. Thanks for reading and commenting. Grateful 🙏 I wish you miracles.
This is absolutely fantastic, Selma!! I love the tone, the mood and imagery here especially; “Could it be that, like in nature, we are to call forth strength to activate the abscission process—to let go to grow?” Thank you so much for writing to the prompt. 💝💝
Aww. Fantastic IS YOU! Thank you. Lovely prompt and thanks for letting me use YOUR lovely string-of-pearls (words) You rock. 👏
Letting go is not easy, but to be able to do so, so very liberating! Love this, Selma.
Thanks dearly.
My pleasure dear.
I think it is always hard letting go of summer… knowing the long journey ahead…
So true what you say. But we must leave things behind — to grow.
Thanks for visiting, Björn (sorry for the delayed response). I appreciate the comment. Be well, dear fried. See you at the Pub. 😃
Gorgeous narrative and imagery, Selma. You did great justice to the prompt you chose <3
I’ve seen nature give a plethora of lessons. Why not this one. Very beautiful composition and I like the way it flows down the page.
Yes, Nature is a good teacher. We better learn our lessons.
Imagine a world without lunatics (poets) gawking at the moon, getting tutored by it, serenading it. It’s a horrid thought. And I’m so glad you liked the flow. Thanks for the encouraging comment. I appreciate you.
Well-said, Selma. You’re very welcome, my pleasure.
That wind, I tell you! Talk about groping in public – we’re not safe anywhere!
<3
David
No one’s safe when Wind is around.
Thanks for stopping.
Happy ‘Jewish Observance Celebrating’
Sorry, I forgot how you call them.
Glad to see you here in person again.
Thanks for reading and commenting.
<3 Selma <3
Your poem flowed like a song. I especially loved the lines -“Could it be that my renegade
heart wasn’t paying attention?” and the repetition of it. How often we cling to what’s gone and fail to pay attention to things that are there- around us.
Oh I love this! So many wonderful images, and the use of repetition is really effective. Summer days oozing past is such a perfect description. <3
Glad you liked that. Thanks so much, Kate. 👏 💕