To Know the Dark

 To go in the dark with a light is to know the light.

To know the dark, go dark; go without sight,

and find that the dark, too, blooms and sings,

and is traveled by dark feet and dark wings. 

 

Wendell Berry

 

WRITING PROMPTS:

  1. Sometime this week take some time to sit in the dark. At this time of year, darkness is not hard to find, but too often we shove it away at first sign. Enjoy the dark, then write about that.
  2. Write your own poem called “To Know the Dark.” Give instructions to someone about how to get to know darkness.
  3. Write about what you like/don’t like about this dark time of year.

 

 

Copyrighted material. Reprinted for educational/therapeutic use.

Writing Prompts Copyright © 2015 Featherstone, All rights reserved.

Categories: Uncategorized

Horses

 The neighbor’s horses idle

under the roof

of their three-sided shelter,

looking out at the rain.

 

Sometimes

one or another

will fade into the shadows

in the corner, maybe

to eat, or drink.

 

Still, the others stand,

blowing out their warm

breaths. Rain rattles

on the metal roof.

 

Their hoof prints

in the corral

open gray eyes to the sky,

and wink each time

another drop falls in.

 

Jennifer Gray

 

WRITING PROMPTS:

  1. Write about an image you see only when it is made most visible by the rain. 
  2. What do you enjoy most about a rainy day? Be specific in your details (vision, smell, sound, touch, taste, memory).

 

Copyrighted material. Reprinted for educational/therapeutic use.

Writing Prompts Copyright © 2015 Featherstone, All rights reserved.

Categories: Uncategorized

Gathering Times

This is the season

of thaw and freeze,

Of dearth and plenty.

These are gathering times.

The landscape lies

Wrapped in the detritus

of seasons past,

pods and casings,

bits of feather and bone,

skins tried on and discarded.

 

This is the season

of ask and reach,

of need and wanting.

These are the gathering times.

I will give you a map

of these hills and hollows,

this river that runs through me, humming.

Walk these curves of hip and thigh, this belly

laid bare by winter winds.

Snow has gathered in tattered drifts

Between my breasts.

 

This is the season

of clutch and grab

of cradle and hold.

Let your arms become a bower

of sunlight, I will hold your warmth.

Give me the fire of your earth,

The heat of your breath

on the frozen fields of my hunger.

Thaw me,fill me,

These are the gathering times.

                         By Amy Christman

 

 

WRITING PROMPTS:

This season, what are you asking for, reaching for, clutching, grabbing, cradling, holding? What have you cast off? What is lying dormant in you?

 

 Copyrighted material. Reprinted for educational/therapeutic use.

Writing Prompts Copyright © 2015 Featherstone, All rights reserved.

Categories: Uncategorized