Writing a Life

6 Dec 2020

Sometimes I sit and let my pen wander across the page. This poem came to me the morning after a poetry night in Coburg, Melbourne. I am new to the city and was so inspired by the have-a-go rawness of the night. I realised how healing and vital it is to write and made a commitment to myself to write for my health. Without further ado, here is what came through...

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I need to write

for my imagination

to stretch and roam

and follow

the scent of my dreams.

I need to write

to show myself

what pulsing, streaming art

is vibrating inside my chest,

my limbs, my soul.

I need to write

to bring form to this

beautiful chaos.

To share it.

I need to write

to grow and build

my voice, my words.

To express the

tenderest parts of being

that wiggle and shake

inside of me.

I need to write

to remember.

To make a pilgrimage

to the lives I have lived before,

in my DNA, my blood, my sweat.

I need to write

to see

to feel

to touch myself intimately,

publicly.

To touch others with

the words of my flesh,

the echo of my mind,

the spirit of my life.