A Poem
Dear Fellow Dreamer,
Some poems need to sit in file folders for many months. I started this one on January 1st, 2024, and put it away. In February, I pulled it out and worked on it, and put it away. I shared it with another poet last April, and she gave me some good suggestions. Then I worked on it some more, and put it away. On December 31st, I finished it.
When I began, I didn’t know who my audience would be. I didn’t know what Substack was, let alone Awakening Wonder. I didn’t know what kind of year we’d have. So often, in the creative process, we have to trust that things take time for a reason.
My reason is you. And this little poem is my offering.
I wish you a year of inspiration and creative fulfillment. May you make a beautiful difference in this world.
At the Crossroads, the New Year
May we welcome the turn of our unmaking
making new—
May we release talking so much and feel more,
release the need to disseminate, to be skinny
like those pines by the waterfall
May we welcome the waterfall, deep water, sunflowers
each day of each lunation
May we release frustration
welcome soft-antler brush of morning, grey that lifts
May we release snacking on what doesn’t feed,
welcome blue-striped pyjamas, mushrooms you can eat,
amethyst,
shine
release pumps that crunch on crumbs or caring about girdles
(at least, most of the time)
welcome fabric that frees us—
smooth shimmer, white-helix staff of letting go
welcome the wind’s snap
May we release the blindfold when we’re ready,
welcome muscovite on an open palm:
mica, stone of vision, connection
welcome el cantarito and drink
to deep turquoise, red geranium blooms,
white secrets in spruce boughs
in winter, walk anyway
May we welcome the love of things we don’t like,
learn the flowers in our garden
welcome mind, but taste the food,
and welcome what’s beneath—the shadow that’s followed
since the first time we were lifted
May we release the news sometimes,
but welcome a secret channel,
slaked thirst.
© Robin Blackburn McBride
