I am writing right now simply just to feel my fingers typing.  My summer brain had not allowed for much writing, reading hasn’t been a go to activity since the days had gotten long enough to use the evenings for entire days worth of activity after a work day of work. In some sense, summer is my own harvest time. I am harvesting time.  All I need is sun, water, and a bit of fertilizer, which I will call “friends”.

Of course, it’s a much different time of year, the shortest days. The longest nights.  Time seems to change, and either I change too, or I miss the opportunity.  A circle of friends and I sat around on a recent night to sip and write, small chunks of creative time in a warm place. The host of the gathering wrote this poem as her final piece, after having chosen the phrase “an endlessly inspiring forest” from a small, beautiful glass cup of juicy phrases.  The room resounded after she read this. This is a true recognition. And maybe each recognition is also an opportunity.

***

My Favorite Trees
~ poem by Sade Murphy

I remember a proverb
show me your friend and I will show you your character
Given that I’m afraid
My friends speak too highly of me

My friends create an endlessly inspiring forest
They are my favorite trees

I am only the fickle wind
Rushing past
without a thought to what i’ve touched