Writing a Poem

cliffs of moher sunset istockIt all begins in the miracle of the moment, a sunset, a bird in flight, the song of a river, each giving birth to the poem that winds a thread deep into the subconscious, weaving unexpected images tied neatly together tugging the heart strings of the reader. That is the magic and music of verse.

I start out with a flock of snow geese on a cold morning and my mind goes super nova, expanding like the universe, the awareness of the Oneness of all things undeniable. The dreamer, dreaming the dream. The scene finds its way to a satisfying conclusion. To write a poem you have to trust what wants to be born, you have to let spirit move through you, you have to surrender, in the words of Nobel prize winning poet Seamus Heaney, to “a moment of lift, of joy, of unexpected reward”.

Here’s a poem that came to me that way.

Snow Geese

Rising before dawn, we wait
in winter’s sharp cold
for the sun to climb crimson
out of the valley floor, stirring

a white froth of feathers. Ascending
in waves, one hundred thousand
lift from the marshes, their warbling
and wings a roaring ocean of sound.

Flying in long loops, they vibrate
like excited electrons spun off
the first explosion
that sent planet, asteroid, stardust

swirling in an expanding spiral.
We stand fourteen billion years later,
amid an orbiting flurry of life,
aware of this wonder of Being.

– Suzanne Murray

If you enjoyed this article subscribe to my free monthly newsletter and I’ll send you a copy of my ebooklet Setting Your Creativity Free. Just click on the Mail List Subscribe tab in the column on your left and enter your email. Thanks.

2 Responses »

  1. A beautiful poem, rich in visual imagery. I especially like “a white froth of feathers”. Nice.


    suzanne Reply:

    Thanks Joyce for your kind words and feedback.


Leave a Reply