Memories Sleeping

Author’s Notes: Writer’s block. Everyone has heard about it, jokes made, condolences offered. It’s a real thing, a time most Creatives face. The well of ideas runs dry, the lake of inspiration empties and a desert of despair stretches farther than one can see. I had it bad, wandering that desert for at least six months.

One of my writing sisters sympathized, stating her creativity had recently become dormant. We discussed the idea. She was taking a course by David Whyte who offered a solution.  

She shared it with me. “Ask yourself,  what do you want to say that you are not saying?” 

It is a question any creative person can mold to unblock many avenues of stagnation. For an artist, “What do I need to see that I won’t look at?” For musicians, dancers, actors, “What do I need to feel that I haven’t allowed?”  

When Lynnea Paxton-Honn shared this with me, my re-awakening began. “What do I want to say that I am not saying?” 

In California, where we live, January roared into our state with a deluge capable of filling dry lakes and ponds, and creating new ones, seemingly overnight. It ferociously filled rivers, washing away many things. Tides surged, waves plundered. From Earth’s perspective the rain was needed even though it was so destructive. From a spiritual viewpoint, it was a physical expression of the need to wash away all that no longer serves, a process that caused great grief, but also opened new solutions and opened hearts. It awakened memories, and filled our creative lakes and wells with words for both of us…I am thrilled to present Lynnea’s poem Memories Sleeping

Water–Life Giving

drips, drips, drips

through layers of rock

and sediment,

leaks out through fissures

into the outer air,

trickling from mountain aquifers,

runoff gullies down

spilling over rocks,

around root tangles,

debris caught and bundled

catching all the matter

torn from banks

barricading the streaming water,

damming the flow,

holding the power

of the stream no longer streaming,

but pooling, pooling as it pushes

against the barricade, blocked

until it’s not

and tiny tear trickles

begin to slide through the micro

cracks in the barricade.

The things I do not want to say come forth.

Lynnea Paxton-Honn  January 2023

To read more from Lynnea, you can visit her blog site: heartofahorsewoman.blog

Or her author page at: Author Central – Amazon

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