She shouldn’t care more about you
than you do yourself.
Your success should be on your shoulders
not on hers.
She can guide, support, aid,
but you must do the work,
think the thoughts, stretch your brain,
believe you can.
There is no easy way.
You need to care enough to be your best,
trust the tools and safe venue for risk,
let her cheer from the side,
as she watches you ride
away into your future.
You need to trust, this isn’t a place
to stay.
I only dream
that the first time is the only time
to do something.
I only dream
that no one can find complaint
omission or regret.
I only dream
of polished perfection
in momentary introspection.
I only dream
and roll my eyes
at expectation of perfection
your rejection of infallibility
is nothing to do with me.
Some days
I feel like a little kid standing against a ruler:
“You must be this tall to ride.”
Stretching beyond all comfort,
but still coming up
short.
The shape of this idea
is new,
resolving conceptually around
a
round
never-ending
novelty
what the mirror reveals of me.
The shape of this idea
greets daily astonishment
as “You can be” turns out to be true.
Who knew?
How often
does our prayer to
accept the things that cannot change
become an excuse for complacency?
How often
do we turn away from the possible
just because it’s difficult?
How often
to we tell ourselves ‘it’s always been’
and fail to see that something else could be?
How often
do we rail against those
who gentle encourage change when
they demonstrate another way?
How often
do we shout our certainty
when we should listen and see
wider horizons of possibility?
Within old skin
undoing
rebuilding
becoming
rebounding
safe growing places
bright glowing spaces
this microcosm populated
by homunculi
stitching new skin.
I’m
circling
I’m
adding,
growing, and
learning.
I’m
becoming
the dream me
I see her
in
laughter
applause
award
I’m
circling
up to the prize
it’s closer
and
closer
with every
word.
.
.
I just came back from the annual Surrey International Writers’ Conference. My first year there, I successfully pitched to a publisher. My third time I successfully pitched to an agent. When I first started attending, I admired the amazing writing of the winners of the $1000 Storyteller Award and the humorous writing by the winners of the 75 word Silly Write contest. I dreamed of winning those contests. I’ve entered a couple of pieces 5 or 6 times over the years. This year I didn’t have a project to pitch, but I submitted to both contests. I was short listed for the Storyteller (3rd year in a row short listed for a writing contest at SIWC!) and my entry came second in the Silly Write. I was thinking “Always the bridesmaid, never the bride.” 🙂 On the other hand, I feel the precipice I’m standing on- I am appreciating the fine line of difference between good and great.
When several hundred people are laughing at your jokes and cheering when your name is called, you can’t help but feel inspired.
You know how there comes a time when the craftsman requires particular tools to create true art? Because of the amazing craft workshops I attended (Donald Maass, Diana Gabaldon, Susanna Kearsley, Shari Green) and meal conversations (Larry Brooks, Nephele Tempest, Jack Whyte) I feel like I’ve been given the master tools that will make the difference to leap off the precipice and FLY. I feel that intangible sense that things are about to change, and I’m excited!
It is dark here.
We have dug a den,
a hole to hide in.
Safe, secure, one entrance to guard
with snarling, snapping lunges.
Beyond the border we guard,
light illuminates.
We squint at silhouettes,
afraid of what lies behind.
The dark we know,
but light lures.
I did not realize
I was writing a story
when I took your words
and wove them into fantasy
so compelling
I believed you were real.
There are possibilities in front of you
Opportunities unbounded
By anything
but your determination.
Nothing will happen if you attempt nothing
But something can happen if you do some
Thing–
Any
Thing–
To embrace what might be
Possible.
Shawn L. Bird 