A psychic poetry connection

I woke this morning with a poem on my lips. Probably, this was unavoidable since I wrote all night and crashed on the living room couch, exhausted and weepy, my head filled with words as the sun slowly filled the room.

I woke to Kathleen Jamie’s “The Tay Moses,” not the poem so much as the cadence of words slipping my mouth, the movement on my tongue soft and slow.

Kathleen Jamie, I love you. At least, I love your poems and your voice. Please don’t stop writing.

Imagine my surprise when I opened my email to find that Emily over at A Poem for Every Day had featured the exact same poem in today’s blog post.

Is it possible for two writers’ minds to connect, a type of psychic poetry linkage whereas if one poetry blogger reads a poem, another writer/sometimes poetry blogger can hear, not so much the words as the linger of syllables sliding past her ears? (Emily, dear, can you hear/feel/see me writing this post?)

Whatever the case, here is a link Emily included on her blog post of Jamie reading “The Tay Moses.” Her voice is divine. The last line is perfect. It does me in. It haunts me.

After I listening over twenty times, I started a new poem of my own. I wrote the ending first; I have no idea how it will begin or even if it will begin. Probably, it will remain a fragment, as so many poems do.

Such is love, in the now,
the future of our perfect selves.
Beyond the city, forests whisper
wet sounds: leaves, ferns.
We can’t hear
We are ruined
We bow our knees
to the vast green praise
of rain.

Upcoming news: Don’t miss my interview with Jim Harrington of “Six Questions For …” posting early next week.

More news: Every wonder how indie authors come up with original cover concepts? Young adult author Nikki Jefford shows off sneak peek images from a photo shoot for her Aurora Sky series in her “Aurora Sky Photo Shoot–Sneak Peek” post.

Still more news: Lastly, Kate over at “Eat the Damn Cake” has been writing some killer blog posts on life with her new baby, Eden. Don’t miss these. The photos alone are priceless. (Baby Eden has quite the rebellious attitude. Is she doomed to become a writer?)

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