a free verse poem celebrating the process
Excavating a Poem
Some, a breath
exhaled slowly
into life-giving words.
Some, an excavation
with bristles firm,
then soft and careful.
Some, roots
gnarled and half-buried
we trip over them
and follow them to trees.
Some, grains of sand
to be gathered and shaped
into delicate mounds
washed into the sea.
We gather. We excavate.
We dig and we build.
We are careful to use
the right tools, the right angles
the carved-out landscapes
of metaphor and dream.
We speak for them, but they
are our teachers.
To all my fellow poets out there digging deep, finding the breath to breathe life into your poetry, or just listening to your poems until they speak themselves to you…it is a gift to be their voice.Embrace it. Be mindful. Always seek. Always listen.
Christina Ward
:::i paint with words:::
Christina M. Ward 
Leave a Reply