Eyes closed
mind focussed on a fragrance
sparked by the image
of lilacs
Sandy’s words
a “fragrance of simplicity”
explode a kaleidoscope
of memories
Lush blooms
spilling from a milk glass jug
set on grandma’s table
glowing purple
Dappled light
filtering through heart-shaped leaves
onto a lavender-strewn lawn at
season’s end
French white
solemn in crystal beside a coffin
pristine and gentle beauty
without cheer
.
(Lilac Memories – Carol J. Garvin)
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We’ve reached the end of another month, this one concluding the study of Dave Harrity’s book, Making Manifest: On Faith, Creativity, and the Kingdom at Hand. Its meditations and writing exercises were meant to be daily devotional explorations, but I didn’t follow the rules. Reading snippets sandwiched into still moments, I didn’t take the journey as planned. Still, this month and its continuing focus on poemia — that’s Greek for poetry, meaning where anything is made — has reinforced my desire to plumb emotional and spiritual depths even as I write my secular prose.
We can’t expect readers to experience the lives of our characters if we don’t experience real emotions while we’re writing their stories. Scenes that flop effortlessly onto the page are sometimes not as inspired as we might like to believe, but are the result of superficial writing. I’ve been guilty of this, occasionally letting the words spill out without feeling any attachment to them.
Sandra Heska King refers to this month of digging deeper as “learning to see a little more clearly, to listen a little more deeply.” She speaks of faith and matters of the soul, and “a holy awakening,” but truthfully, doesn’t it take a combination of heart, mind and soul to find and follow any writing path that God has mapped out for us?
The book study may be over, but now it’s time to continue the searching, to dig below the surface, to grasp that which is meaningful, and make sure it’s significant and honest before planting it on the page. Are you with me?
~
Now that May is over I’ve decided to take a week off from blogging. There might be the occasional random post next week, or there might not be, but I’ll be back on the regular schedule by Monday, June 9th to begin my seventh year of sharing mental meanderings with you here. (Can it be that long ago that I ventured out onto the blogging stage? Wow!)
~ ~ ~
MUSINGS 
Oh Carol. You rule-breaker, you. Those lilacs… are beautiful. And your poem… oh, my. How it moves from glowing purple to French white… and that last line, “pristine and gentle beauty, without cheer” made my throat catch.
Thank you for sharing the journey, even if only snippets. It would have been far less enjoyable without you. And I’m with you.
And P.S. Enjoy your rest.
Thanks, Sandy.
Congratulations on your 7th year of blogging! I loved your poem. It speaks to the heart, and that’s the best kind of all.
Your poem is lovely, and lilacs, as you know, are one of my most favorite blooms. We had several “bushes” as I called them and when in bloom, the fragrance was lovely throughout the big house on the hill Thanks for those memories dear friend and enjoy your well deserved break. (Seven years of blogs! Have truly enjoyed everyone!)
Thanks, Susan and Earlene. The poem turned out to be a bit of a challenge because I had a particular format I wanted to follow with it. I think lilacs always evoke a bit of nostalgia… they’re a little ‘old fashioned’ and often linked to memories of our parents or grandparents and their gardens.
Carol- I like how you spring boarded off of Sandy’s memories into your own…you reminded me that lilacs can be white as well as purplish. Congrats on 7yrs.
Seven years! Really? The poem is beautiful, Carol. I read it and thought, no wished I could write like that. Very moving. Have a nice week off.
Seven years is a long time n the blogging world. A lot of bloggers have come and gone. Kudos to you fr hanging in there!
I missed your comments while I was away, Kelrohif, Joylene and Laura, but thanks. 🙂