I pulled this photo out for an assignment from the mondo beyondo dream lab + the gifts of imperfection class*:
Your task today is to find a childhood photo of yourself and dedicate a song to the tender part of you who is making her way back to her whole heart.
For the song, I chose True Colors, by Cyndi Lauper.
Then I moved to my next task, my weekly snapshot poem. And, on revising and considering, I think this poem was written from the same place -- from me, to three-year-old me.
Snapshot 19 January 02011
You follow this arrow
in the only direction
you can go. Choose
what you will.
Love what you love.
You’ve been here before,
this day, yesterday, the next,
just around a dark corner.
Live in the world in which
you find yourself, mountains,
the sea, your own inner landscapes.
Sliding on ice, unsteady, uncertain,
no arm to hold to but your own.
This planet, this land, this water,
they roll under you, through you.
How is it the sky fades
from dark to dawn? But fade
it does, again and again. This
is your home. It is what you make it.
And again you rise into it,
unfinished, unfamiliar, strange
to yourself in wakefulness.
Brilliance in the dark, subtlety
in light, nothing is as it seems.
Speak clearly. Say to yourself:
this is mine, this is me.~
*This class has much to recommend it, and much to complain of, but that's another post.
I love your photo--what an expressive, joyful-looking child you were. I also love your song choice. I am enjoying Dream Lab in some respects, but agree that it is extremely difficult to connect--even exhausting--and I don't really feel I'm building a community with anyone in this format... I thank you for being honest in your comments about your frustration.
Posted by: Tiffany | 19 January 2011 at 04:28 PM
Thank you, Tiffany. It's always helpful to know I'm not alone.
Posted by: sbpoet | 19 January 2011 at 04:38 PM
That is apt way of saying it. I now feel better about taking time away from the comments or only reading the first few.
I think we all just need to talk about it. I enjoy your comments and I really enjoy the class but it is hard to build community.
You are so cute as a three year older and I love that song!
Posted by: keishua | 19 January 2011 at 05:02 PM
What a gorgeous child you were!
Posted by: Tilly Bud | 21 January 2011 at 04:12 AM
I think that's a beautiful poem.
Posted by: Jeanne Aguilar | 21 January 2011 at 06:40 AM
Love the tenderness and care you take with your words and their purpose. Also like the references to day and night, light and dark, and the echoes of that throughout the piece. Wish someone had said this to me when I was young. Beautiful,
Elizabeth
Posted by: Elizabeth C | 21 January 2011 at 08:43 AM
oh, this is great: "love what you love!" and the last stanza makes me so delighted, too!
Posted by: carolee | 21 January 2011 at 02:41 PM
How wonderful your words and snap. I can take these inside and feel better.
Posted by: Tumblewords | 21 January 2011 at 03:47 PM
Beautiful poem and beautiful child.
Posted by: pamelasayers | 21 January 2011 at 05:09 PM
Thank you, all.
Posted by: sbpoet | 21 January 2011 at 08:02 PM
I adore that picture. What a smile!
The poem, while adult in tone, ends on something small children can understad. Which really ties this up into a neat little bow, so to speak.
Posted by: mark | 22 January 2011 at 07:48 AM
Adorable photo, and such wise, tender advice to yourself.
Posted by: Erin | 22 January 2011 at 11:25 AM
Love the advice given to self, and with such gentleness and love, as if indeed it were given to the child that forever resides within
Posted by: Ruth | 22 January 2011 at 03:34 PM
I've been thinking of this on and off ... such a lush inevitability, an openness in the poem that lets me put myself in it (save for the adorable photo!) ; the energy of the photo.
Posted by: Deb | 23 January 2011 at 07:32 PM
OMG, that picture is amazing! Such bright eyes. It looks like my mom cut your bangs. Usually crooked because of me fussing.
I'm still incredibly frustrated w/ the DL. I cannot for the life of me register for the community forum. I've probably spent an hour trying. Andrea is trying to help but no use so far.
Are you registered?
Posted by: Susie | 24 January 2011 at 03:38 PM
Susie, I am registered, and I'm so much happier with the forum platform than the interminable comments - which I still read, but don't feel bad about not responding.
The forum allows for actual conversations. I hope you get in there soon.
Posted by: sbpoet | 24 January 2011 at 03:57 PM