I took myself to the office, i.e. Barnes & Noble bought a few books. Read. Drank cappuccino. Ate a chocolate croissant, and wrote the beginning of a different poem. This is how it works
today
They no longer arrive fully formed out of an emotional wellspring, or by the hand of God after purging secrets in the confessional, or because I was born with an innate
talent
I don’t have Good Bones, although I’ve never broken one. The woods offer many paths for meditation but lichen on a rock has never whispered to me about the meaning of
life
that was thrust upon me without a formal invitation, and comes with a daily option of pass or play, and a rollercoaster of obstacles, peppered with just enough victories to make you believe living isn’t
hard
work— like this poem that presented itself one word at a time over three days, thanks to twelve double-sided pages, four pots of coffee, three ink cartridges, and no deux ex machina Big
Magic
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Jocosa Wade is a recovering actress turned writer living in New York’s Hudson Valley. She holds an MFA in Performance from the University of New Orleans. Her one-act Beating the Odds was first produced as part of the Washington D.C. Theatre Festival and later at Mill Mountain Theatre in Roanoke, Virginia. Her creative non-fiction has appeared in Sky Island Journal. She recharges her creativity with poetry, long walks in the shadow of the Shawangunk Ridge and making the best baklava ever.
I loved reading this poem. Well done Mrs Jocosa Wade. A secret insight into your world .
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