Can the March Be a Dance?

This week, instead of a poem, I’m offering you the lyrics to a song I just wrote. I don’t know that there are absolute rules distinguishing song lyrics from poems, so maybe I can just call this a poem and a song both? Now you know why it’s rhymier and more repetitive than my usual fare, though . . .

Can the March Be a Dance?

I’m still trying
to take this crying
and fill an ocean
be rocked by its motion

I’m here aching
for something like awakening
a fire that’s all consuming
the burning before the blooming

They say
to pick a lane
That’s not my brain
that’s not my way
Can the march
be a dance?
Can every step
be a wild chance?

The sky keeps raining
and the ground keeps draining
We’re made of flowing
not the rocks we’re throwing

They say
to choose a street
then dig in deep
oh dig in deep
But I don’t see
an asphalt line
I see a green
and branching vine

I keep singing
to hear my heart ringing
Your harm is my harm
Your alarm is my alarm

They say
to pick a lane
That’s not my brain
That’s not my way
Can the journey
be a dance?
And every step
a wild chance?

I don’t see
an asphalt line
I see a green
and branching vine
I see a green
and growing vine
I see a green
and braided vine

Update - After I posted this, a few of you darlings asked to hear the song. Music is usually a solo and relatively private endeavor for me because I suffer from a strange affliction where as soon as I hit ‘record’ or a person enters the room and shows any sign of paying attention to me, my fingers start tripping all over themselves, which makes picking guitar strings or plucking piano keys a bit of a challenge. I hope you won’t mind a few finger fumbles! Here you go . . .

Photo by Victoria Strukovskaya on Unsplash

The Prompt

Since I went rogue this week and wrote a song instead a poem, I hope you’ll view that as a standing invitation to do the same! Some days are poem days. But other days might be song days or ceramic days or painting days or mud pie days. The more creative we get about how to be creative, the richer life becomes. If you’re doing something that makes your heart sing, and you have no place to share it, consider this a place! I’d love to hear about it. (If you want to share a photo, you’ll need to do that through the chat feature rather than in the comments thread.)

If you’re in poem-writing-mode and would like a prompt to play around with, then I offer you these lines from my song: “I’m still trying to _____” and “I’m here aching for _____.”

What might fill in those blanks for you? Maybe you can make a sprawling list. Or maybe one thing beats over and over like a drum. Notice the vast list of your longings, or notice the laser focus. Take a moment to feel that in your body. Notice where it sits and what sensations come with it.

How does this trying or aching or longing show up in your life? How do you see it reflected/ignored/nourished/denied in your day-to-day life or in the wider world?

Do particular memories, stories, places, or contexts come to mind for you as you sit within your own striving/trying/aching/longing?

Can you let your ache write a poem? Can you let that always trying part of you write a poem? Are their voices any different from your voice? What happens if those voices come together and speak at once?

I look forward to reading whatever poem (or song, or flash fiction, or MadLib) emerges from this. Thank you for holding space for the things I create. And thank you for sharing your own creations!