Going Home To Poetry

For a long time, I wrote a poem every day. It was my way of grounding myself; breathing was easier after writing a poem. When, for whatever reason, a day passes when I haven’t written a poem, the distress is palpable; I’m a wolf pacing a boundary fence. No matter what’s been going on in my life, if I write a poem, I’m made whole, writing a poem is giving myself a gift of peace.

For the longest time, life has felt like trying to stay afloat on a meagre raft in a volatile sea (it still does) and that knowledge of ‘if you write a poem, there will be calm’ (even just for a little while) is often lost.

I’ve been scared, too, of the behemoth that is social media and how I try to keep smiling while it eats me. I’ve been thinking too much these days and not writing enough. This is just a thrashed-out thing to remind myself that I need to go home to poetry, and perhaps you do too.