the color of life
“Tell me your color of life, and I will tell you who you are. But that isn’t the point, not really. The point is for you to know who you are. The point is, once again, to stretch language.” — Beth Kephart, Handling the Truth
The color of life is
the glow of a
summer sunrise as
scarlet turns to silver.
The day
breaks.
Possibility radiates.
Whimsy waits.
Small moments
turn into the
big matters.
If I collect enough
mundane moments,
will my life glow, too?
A note about my process —
This prompt was another challenge from Handling the Truth. You read the first few lines of Gerald Stern’s poem “Eggshell” and then you ask, “What is the color of life?”
I started writing in prose, as I always do. I was surprised to find a poem waiting to break out. Instead of fighting with it — because I like to tell myself I don’t write poetry very well, and certainly not well enough to share outside of classroom walls — I let this poem crawl out.
I’m so glad I did, because I’m not sure I would have gotten to the real point fo the writing — to know who I am and to stretch language.
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Let’s just establish one thing – you do write poetry and you do it well. I loved how this poem took me in and let me be a part of your world. The line breaks created the pause needed. This could not be written as prose. I’m so glad you let the poet out. She needs to come out and play more often. 🙂
I need to get Handling the Truth. That last stanza–what a punch. I’m going to be thinking about that one for a while.
“…let the poem crawl out.”
“…to stretch language.”
You have such a wonderful way with words. I can almost feel the fun you have with them, like you are all playmates frolicking together!
I agree with Elsie,
You DO write poetry… you write poetry and prose and you put it out there for us. I am happy to be writing with you once again…
The color of life is
the glow of a
summer sunrise as
scarlet turns to silver.
Just one thing… for some reason I don’t think I’m getting a weekly email from you, I just arrive here on Thursday with a post written but I’m not sure when you are suggesting something…
Do I have to subscribe?
Bonnie
I just subscribed 🙂
Love this, Ruth – especially the line – whimsy waits. I think we need MUCH MORE whimsy in the world! Whimsy and fragrant cake batter in a grandma’s antique mixing bowl!
Beautiful. I am so glad you allowed the poem to emerge. the following rings in my ears the most:
Small moments
turn into the
big matters.
I like the idea of sharing both the poem and your process.
What a delight to read your words this morning and think about you sitting outside watching the summer sun rise. Here’s my favorite stanza:
“The day
breaks.
Possibility radiates.
Whimsy waits.”
Maybe because I love the possibility that comes as each new day breaks, maybe because I’m a morning person, maybe because I love the idea of possibility and whimsy holding hands as the new day begins.
I’m so glad you let this poem crawl out!
Interesting question – what’s the color of (my) life?
I am so gald that you let this poem “crawl out.”
These lines spoke to me:
small moments
turn into
big matters
You have tuaght me so much about celebrating small moments in all aspects of my life. And I am so thankful!
I love this!
I especially like …
The day breaks.
Possibility radiates.
Whimsy waits.
Thanks for sharing your process and product, Ruth!