Skip to main content

ALL I KNOW CAN GROW by Edith Lazenby

I took a break from writing for about three months...

This was the first one back. Life has been nothing change. And I report back feeling full of hope and very happy.


All I Know Can Only Grow

The air wrinkles in my sight
And I know I am high.
Chill as the first snowflake 
And just as free
I take the memories
And let them fall like pouporri.
Life tastes sweet as wild cherries.
Change grows yet another wing
As I continue to fly 
In order to soar knowing when
Less is more and old
Is new and age wears a crown
Of lavender and my shadow
Caresses the crevices of light
I find by looking past the moon
Into a dawn that promises 
Bliss in the sun and a winter
Where all I know can only grow.

Edith Lazenby: “I love to write. I began writing poetry in elementary school. Sometimes I write poetry daily, other times not. I adore Mary Oliver, her way of embracing the light while acknowledging the darkness. I teach yoga full time and find the practice has grounded me deeper in my body and heart and helped me move closer to what I call spirit. I also now edit for Elephant Journal and write for them as well. I live with my 4 kitties. Life holds challenges yet with time I feel better able to live in the moment, moment by moment. All great teachers teach presence. I find each day is a lesson in being. The process of writing holds me and I find the craft teaches me something new each time. You may visit my blog here.



~If you are interested in seeing your poetry appear in this blog, or submitting a poem by a woman that has inspired you, please click here for submission guidelines. I greatly look forward to hearing from you!~ 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

IMAGINE A WOMAN by Patricia Lynn Reilly

  This poem invites you to look upon yourself with loving kindness… Gazing at your own true reflection, you will discover that everything you have longed for “out there” is already within you! I invite you to love your creativity fiercely. Faithfully plant seeds, allowing under-the-ground dormant seasons, nurturing your creative garden with love and gratitude. In the fullness of time, the green growing things thrust forth from the ground. It's a faithful, trustworthy process. AND it takes time and patience.  Blessed is the fruit of your creative womb! I invite you to trust your vision of the world and express it. With wonder and delight, paint a picture, create a dance, write a book, and make up a song. To give expression to your creative impulses is as natural as your breathing. Create in your own language, imagery, and movement. Follow no script. Do not be limited by the customary way things have been expressed. Your creative intuition is original. Gather

THE JOURNEY by Mary Oliver

Today we honor Mary Oliver (1936-2019) and all the words she left behind. May they inspire you on your journey!  Excerpt from Mary Oliver’s book Long Life: Essays and Other Writings : "Poets must read and study... but, also, they must learn to tilt and whisper, shout, or dance, each in his or her own way, or we might just as well copy the old books. But, no, that would never do, for always the new self swimming around in the old world feels itself uniquely verbal.  And that is just the point: how the world, moist and bountiful, calls to each of us to make a new and serious response. That's the big question, the one the world throws at you every morning. 'Here you are, alive. Would you like to make a comment?'" The Journey By Mary Oliver  One day you finally knew what you had to do, and began, though the voices around you kept shouting their bad advice-- though the whole house began to tremble and you felt the old tug

STILL I RISE by Maya Angelou

Six years ago, I had the privilege of listening to Maya Angelou speak live on the value of poetry at the University of Florida. I share these reflections with you again today, in honor of her birthday.  I was relieved to get one of the last seats available for this rare event, having arrived at five for Maya Angelou ’s free speech at eight. The historically long line began with people settled into beach chairs in winter coats busying themselves on tablets, or eating sandwiches for dinner. As helicopters hovered above and newscasters below, I felt the excitement of realizing that thousands of people were gathering together to hear an eighty four year old black woman recite her poetry! Maya Angelou speaking at University of Florida on Feb. 27, 2013  When the curtain rose -after an overflow of hundreds were sent away- we lucky ones on the inside greeted Maya with a standing ovation, as she smiled sweetly, beginning her talk using metaphors from nature. Maya asked that we