Those of you that have been with me for a while know how much I appreciate poetry while acknowledging that I suck at writing it. It’s one thing to make a good rhyme, but it is an altogether entirely different thing to convey something deep and soulful, with just the right cadence, that leaves you breathless and plays over and over again in your head for the rest of the day.
I told a story not long ago that included a mention of my morning routine. It includes my conversations with Alice over coffee and a daily recitation of what I lovingly refer to as my “Hermit Writer’s Prayer.” It’s pretty straightforward; I acknowledge the beauty of the morning (rain or shine, hot or cold, each new day that you wake up breathing has the potential to be a fabulous day if you put in the effort to make it so) and an appreciative acknowledgment of all the beauty and wonder of Nature’s creations.
This morning started off like any other. I sipped my coffee, smoked my cigarette, and discussed with Alice my plans for winding down the next section of my latest nonfiction book project. This one is taking a lot out of me, but it feels like the most important one I have ever done. And so it was, damn near hypnotized by how deeply I was in my thoughts, that a Cardinal perched himself on a branch about 10 feet away from me to my right and was just chirping himself silly, saying God knows what directly at me, and all of my deep thought went out the window as this fragment started playing in my head:
“A Cardinal stopped in to see me today
Sat on his perch and listened to me pray
Heard me thank the cosmos for another day
Alive, still upright, and happy to say
Nature inspires and brings hope to each new day “
Funny thing is, though, that listening to him prattle on as if him and I were the only two living creatures on the planet, I immediately understood what I needed to do about my writing dilemma. Note to self: whenever you find yourself overthinking a thing, shut your brain up and listen to what nature and the cosmos are trying to tell you.
