Poem: Where do I go?

My lovely friend Ali and I are doing a 52-week creativity challenge. Ali is a wonderful singer-songwriter, so his particular challenge looks like penning and recording a song each week. For me, it’s poetry. I’ve never been trained in poetry so it’s a bit of an experiment, really – which relies heavily on the fact that the word ‘poem’ can be stretched to apply to a lot of things! We are now 23 weeks in – almost half way! I’ve definitely learnt that I can do things even when I don’t feel like doing them (although I have to learn it anew each week). It has also been interesting for loosening the knot of perfectionism that hangs about telling me not to bother doing anything. Sometimes the poems are quite clearly not very good at all – but the beautiful thing is that I remember each one, and I remember what inspired each one. It’s a lovely record of my year. Here is poem number 10, inspired by my walks through Matairangi Mount Victoria – my local spot for nature walks.

#10 Where do I go?

The low-setting sun hits the thick
bed of rust-iron pine needles,
sets them alight, spins them to gold.

The tiniest raindrops land on
my upturned face like a hundred
little kisses from the heavens.

The mud, thick and black as
the richest chocolate cake
envelops my heavy boots.

The lovely lady blackbird
steps into the sun’s glow
and her dark coat turns bronze.

And where do I go in these moments
when that rushing stream of
thoughts and queries I thought
were me have vanished into the soil?

I can only assume that I cease,
absorbed in the abundance,
dissolved in the swirling energy, 
erased by this interwoven life.