This month, my Poetry Sisters and I are taking another look back, hindsight being 20/20 and all that. I returned to March 2018, when we wrote ekphrastic poems based on this image from The Garden of the Gods in Colorado Springs, Colorado:
In my post at the time, I admitted that I “had in mind a formal response but it didn’t happen.” Well, that sounded like a challenge to me. So, here’s the pantoum I didn’t write a couple of years ago!
Stones to Sand
Liz Garton Scanlon
Are you balanced or are you stuck
It’s not obvious from here
What is fate and what’s mere luck
Do you succumb or do you steer?
It’s not obvious from here
I’m at arm’s length, I cannot see
Do you succumb or do you steer
The stones to sand, the sand to sea
I’m at arm’s length, I cannot see
The waking dream, the beating heart
The stones to sand, the sand to sea
The what’s-been-altered since the start
The waking dream, the beating heart
The settled world, now thunderstruck
Oh, what’s-been-altered since the start
Are you balanced, are you stuck?
Now… before you zip off to read all the others, an announcement. Or rather, an invitation. After more than a decade of writing together and several years of monthly assignments, my Poetry Sisters and I wondered if any of you might like to play along? Here’s what we propose: Once we agree to our poetic prompts and calendar, we’ll share them with you and invite you to write and share, too. We’ll remind you once a month or so (via our various social media megaphones) and you’re welcome to tag us (or not) when you post.
Now, to that end, here’s what’s cooking for June, posting on June 26th, the last Friday of the month: The theme is susurrus, or an image of thick woods, in whatever form we wish! Join us?
Until then, here are a few more poems from this month’s prompt.
Stay safe and well, friends!
Tricia’s Poem
Laura’s Poem
Sara’s Poem
Rebecca’s Poem
Tanita’s Poem
Andi’s Poem
Kelly’s Poem
And Poetry Friday is over at A Year of Reading today! (Hi, Mary Lee!)
Ooooh, I’m so glad you re-visited this one. A pantoum, with all its repetition, is suited for deep questions that require asking in multiple ways. And I love how it crescendos to this: “The waking dream, the beating heart The settled world, now thunderstruck” Gorgeous.
There were other words that rhymed with stuck — thank goodness THUNKDERSTRUCK swept into to help
What is fate and what’s mere luck
Do you succumb or do you steer?
Wow, we’re topically a match today. Lately, I’m all about mulling over questions of who’s driving, how we define the road, and is it worth staying in the car. Here’s to asking the big questions through poetry. And thank you for sharing a picture of somewhere …else. I find that I am looking at my travel photos on rotation just now, against the day when I can finally hit the road again.
Lovely.
Is it worth staying in the car — ha ha ha — SERIOUSLY, THOUGH!
I am so enamored of pantoum and have not been very successful in writing one. You have to find a line worth repeating. Which I feel you found in yours. The echo of the poem works well with the photo as well. I hope to join your monthly challenge. Thanks for the open invitation.
Oof. What a question. It’s a little embarrassing (and very first-world-problem) to admit how much energy I’ve put into trying to achieve Balance (capital B). After these last 10 weeks, I’ve come to realize that balance needs to be small b, as it bit by bit, sometimes day by day and minute by minute. Being stuck is okay, too, because I’ve learned to ask for help. So I guess my answer to your poems question would be both and neither, and I’m okay with that.
This is a new form for me, and wow! What thought-provoking questions that are perfect with this image.
Oh, that line: the settled world, now thunderstruck. Yes. Exactly. I also love the steering or succumbing question. I’m glad you went back to revisit this one.
I see our pandemic world in your poem, “Are you balanced, are you stuck?” and “The settled world, now thunderstruck.” Beautiful poem Liz, so rhythmic, especially in your third stanza, and your alliterating soft s’s, thanks Liz.
I’ve been late this week but I’m so glad I didn’t miss your pantoum. It’s an interesting form and yours asks many deep questions. I love the line: The stones to sand, the sand to sea, and the images that come to mind.