As I’ve been recuperating this week, this poem was sent to me. Yet another poem with perfect timing. This poetry thing is really cool.
A couple of weeks ago, I had the opportunity to have dinner with a pretty famous poet (though one with whom I was not all that familiar). She asked me “What poets do you read?” I was mortified. I don’t read poets; rather, I read the poems that just sort of come to me. GULP. What else was I going to say, other than the truth? I did preface by telling her that I have just starting loving poetry in the last year. As if that made a difference…
Anyhoo, this poem came to to me again when I needed it the most. I kept wanting (and yes, expecting) that I would feel better sooner. However, I am reminded to “Expect Nothing” and just be where I need to be (Silver Lining).
Funny – there must be something floating around in the collective unconscious these days about poetry. I'm finding myself drawn to it as well. Loving it, actually. If I had to name just one, Emily Dickenson is the BOMB.
Pretty fun, right! Emily is definitely the BOMB…and not an f-bomb, by the way!
Alice Walker no slouch, either. 😉
So true!