It’s been about three months since my last post, and my email keeps telling me that to renew this blog, I should pay for another year. The anniversary has crept upon me, and I’ve been inundated with life-changing experiences that I would rather not discuss.
But…this past year has already been one for the books. Lifetime traumas come at random times and always come bearing sharp teeth. They always draw blood and charges you to do so. Though, as with all things, it goes away once sated and we try to move on as though nothing has ever happened.
“I wish we could live as flowers live,” writes poet Dora Sigerson Shorter. “To breathe and to bloom in the summer and / To slumber and sway in the heart of the night, / And to die when our glory had done” (Shorter).
Right now, Shorter’s poem “Wishes” helps me see things as minutia, which keeps me grounded in a strange way. I can see the flowers for what they are, and not for how I am supposed to see them—not as a connotative construct of beauty and purity but as an organism existing…and doing that only.
To put it clearly, it’s nice to see something living simply even through chaos and pain. Shorter continues in her poem:
“I wish we could die as the birds die, / To fly and to fall when our beauty was best: / No trammels of teim on the years of our face; / And to leave but an empty nest” (Shorter).
I plan to keep going with this blog because I made a promise to myself that I would. I don’t know if that means that I will post every day, or once a week, or every once in a while, but if my love of writing is going to pay off in any way, it’s going to be purely for output. Hopefully, with all things considered, that’s a simple enough mission.
I hope you are all well and have found some good things to read.
Shorter, Dora Sigerson. “Wishes.” The Fairy Changeling and Other Poems. 1897, americanliterature.com/author/dora-sigerson-shorter/poem/wishes.