An early commute of 37 miles to teach writers Ada's The Slow Down poem a balm for my languishing soul The Lightkeeper, she reads with a voice of sweet honey The air thick with fog this warm autumn morn Stay awake, the poem's words speak loud a friend, pulling me by the hand, so I might see this for once in my life. the light in search of the lost. Visions of my own lightkeeper friend swirl between the poem's words and Ada's voice I feel her hand as I stepped inside of this poem, lost in my fog, seeking a lighthouse. Shari, she whispers, the world needs your voice. I need your voice. Give us your gift. I'll be waiting. She is in the front row, her cheers are the loudest Genuine, real, and true, with each word tossed out for eyes other than mine. To my lightkeeper friend I say, You taught me to live like this.
Writing and sharing a poem a day ~ "The writing is inhaling and the sharing is exhaling. They don't have to be good, they just have to be true." ~Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer