Writing Poetry: Wings

Over coffee, Agnes mentions mist rising off the frozen river.

Later I experience a moment of clarity while making the bed. Sometimes when this happens, there is a sense of something spreading out from between my shoulder blades. Like wings. Only much more. The feeling makes me think of the gradual transitions of light at dusk and dawn. Perhaps ice turning to mist, returning to cloud. An invisible unfurling.

It happens within seconds. Comes and goes.

 

 

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15 thoughts on “Writing Poetry: Wings

  1. For me, it is a quickening of the heart, a sense of the connection of things, of forces behind the scenes and a perception of these things coming to life.
    Yes–you have caught the feeling well, with its personal, frozen-beaver-pond-dance flavor, and how it can happen so easily, so mundanely, if one is paying attention.
    Beautiful.

  2. The feeling of clarity, awareness, sudden and wonderful, a holy peace surpassing all else. I could go on, but your description of wings spreading out from your shoulder blades is beautiful.

  3. Oh, splendid! Mist spreading out from between icy shoulder blades, connection and consciousness unfurling on the wings of awareness. Spot on and luminous, Chris. Your gently gorgeous words have given me shivers. Methinks, too, you are a dancer :). Thank you.

    • Thanks Chloe 🙂 I do love to dance… and not just on frozen beaver ponds. Though when I think about it, that may have been the beginning. I used to like to play with the idea (as an artist) of being “naked in the field before God”. With the absence of time and nothing in hand – what does one do to share their creativity with the divine (whatever that may mean). How does one tell their story, show their craft? My answer always came down to movement and intent. Sweep and gesture. I found dance very related to sculpture. And so in 1979 I would dance on frozen beaver ponds in the dead of the Northern Alberta winter. Beneath the stars and Northern Lights… I often think that’s when I was really born… wow, that’s a long way to say “thanks” for your comment Chloe!

      • Oh, my! What a wonderful thing to learn about you. Sorry if I missed that tale somehow–still new here. I can certainly understand that that honest, transcendent and epic experience was a birth. I am grateful to you for sharing. I have done my own versions of your dancing. In many ways, every time I dance, it is a version of what you describe. It’s why I dance, really. Shine on, my multifaceted friend…

      • Actually, Chloe… Although “naked in the field” was mentioned, I think that’s the first time that tale was told here. I like that it’s buried in a conversation. Thanks for the inspiration.

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