‘Word tapestries’ are poems composed with lines captured from readings in adult classes, workshops or retreats. It has been Sarah’s practice to create such poems from every adult sampler and semester class; every girls’ class and summer camp session; every workshop, art night and retreat. As a result, there are many MANY such poems in her files.
By reading a sampling of them here, you get a sense the heart and soul of Women Writing as well as what it means to participants of all ages and levels of experience. Return from time to time, as the offerings will change. Don’t want too much of a good thing all at once!
WHY WE ARE HERE
We need to be here – a push to jump off a cliff
accountable to others. The minute we don’t have this
we begin mending and ironing, boiling down the reserves
beyond the boundaries of motherhood.
My soul was missing from the work.
I was a mess when it came to getting deep,
making habitual promises to myself,
you needing to sleep without me.
Then out you came crying,
a shewolf appearing right on cue –
a determined young thing
caught, wobbling over and over.
This time I finally reached out and grabbed hold,
not even trying, although trying never worked
forever grasping the adventure of now —
the pure pleasure of process.
We need inspiration, motivation, to leave with ideas.
We need to silence the critic we brought
who silenced our writing and silenced our listening.
We need what the container has to offer —
readbacks, chime, snacks, community —
the energy both welcoming and nourishing.
We learn the most important thing about our writing first –
our voice on the page. The technical aspects we pick up
in the context of readings, discussions.
Ah, for rivers of words – indivisible me,
the tumult of being weighed forever by question,
restrained by the cleverness of our brains
held in place by our present vocabulary.
The water in me travels the same paths over and over –
pulls, wicking, dilutions, balance
shifting, dissolving, pushing –
each assigned a piece of the drift.
What we’re doing is the original thing – real writing from the gut –
pens scribbling away, no need to hurry;
just wait and see what wants to emerge.
What you see is not where you start.
‘found’ from first spring class discussion and read-around May 2014