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I had my first full reading from In the Currents of Quiet
a few days ago. I scheduled it on purpose during what I call 'weird
week'. Two birthdays (including mine) and two anniversaries of deaths
all in one week. It felt so good to weave together pieces and let the
words find their way to listeners. Thoughtful, insightful questions were
asked and answered. Joy, love, and healing were present. Beginning
again... again.
I also did two in person signings - one the day of the reading and one the next day (yesterday). A few people came and bought books on the first day - past students, someone I had worked with, a old acquaintance who just happened by. Wonderful conversations and connections. Yesterday, however, I sat there swatting black flies for an hour and a half... and the bones of this poem formed.
So
many aspects of my life and healing converged for this to emerge. I do
believe that my books will continue to find hands and hearts that will
appreciate and benefit from them. I love sharing my work and hearing how
it resonates with others. There's never a question to that. But, it
feels so liberating to simply appreciate what this process means to me,
to allow myself comfort in being the important one as I sit with pencil in hand...
Held
Pencil in hand
I pause,
breathe, allow,
know to let words
simply flow as they may,
as they have so many times
over these past years.
Early on they came
in a quickening,
poured forth
as grief
opened the way.
More often now
there’s a gentle tug and
they come in
peaceful currents
as images, perceptions
flicker
and flutter
until a clear reflection presents.
There’s an enjoyable aspect
of wordplay
as my sweet wild child’s
poetic purity
darts
and dances
until she feels heard.
When I write
I feel held,
buoyant,
limitless,
suspended.
Waters meet sky,
dark and light mingle,
and it matters not
who else might listen.
Sarah Carlson
May 28, 2021
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