If you’ve read the posts I shared earlier this week, you know that I am not a poet by trade and a little bit about why. So, did I choose this week’s writing prompt just to torture myself then? In an odd way, yes, I suppose I did. Here, let me take a brief moment to explain, before sharing the draft of my poem…

I started this blog, Daily Drafts & Dialogues, for a multitude of reasons:

  1. To keep my commitment to write for good, daily. Every day.
  2. To write every day so that I never get into a writing funk or slump.
  3. To write with a purpose, about things that matter, while supporting causes that matter.
  4. To continually push the bounds of what I write and what I think I can write. Even if what I write isn’t necessarily “good” because everything here is in a drafted stage, I’m determined to keep learning and growing as a writer. As a human. Because I believe the two are inextricably linked.
  5. To keep the drafts I write each week, as a live writing journal of sorts.
  6. To take a productive and intentional break from the other things I’m writing, which further sharpens my creativity and technical skills when writing those other things.
  7. To engage and build a writing community full of individuals eager to write with and for a purpose too.

If you want the same things, join me.

So, I suppose this week’s writing prompt is one of my more profound attempts to write something that I don’t typically write, to stretch the bounds of my everyday writing skills.

I don’t typically write poetry. I also don’t typically write about nature or Earth. However, I do find sincere value in both, for more than simply aesthetic reasons. And, ultimately, with April being National Poetry Month and yesterday being Earth Day, I figured, why not write a poem about Earth Day? Torture yourself just a bit, ya know, for the greater good?

Anywho…

I have no clue how I would or should classify what I ended up writing below. Perhaps one of my friends who writes poetry could fill me in on that front? I also don’t think it matters how it’s classified because the poem below is what transpired, and I don’t believe in placing myself inside a box of classifications and structures before I start writing.

The poem below is in a drafted stage, which implies there are many improvements, edits, or changes I would want to make to it. It took a bit of bravery on my part to simply share it as it is in its current form. And a bit of restraint, as I was running out of time and had to force myself to stop looking at it and editing it.

But I did have limited time to work on it and this is what I ended up with for now. Maybe in the future, I’ll have a writing prompt dedicated to updating this poem. Who knows? But for now, here is the draft of my poem for Earth Day, in all its roughness.

Earth, Mother

Mother, 

adorned in green and gold and blue

lush and full and free

always

When we were young

we admired you through a mirror

up close but also from afar

…we took for granted…

your beauty and comfort and gifts

too green ourselves

with greed, with envy, with

self-inflicted illness and inexperience, unenlightened

We blamed you

then and now

throwing fits

of rage, reckless, tyrannical

tantrums

without and with drums

You never wavered from

your fortitude, fortress, our retreat, refuge

Our home, you were and are

full

of a space for exultations, of wonder, to wander

blissfully, willfully ignorant though, we still remain

of your mysteries

Your gifts…

if only we had sensed the mystery sooner

but we were and are blinded

We remained stubbornly green

and tried to harness your gold too, for ourselves

though it is not ours

never was and never will be

We attempted to conquer you

like fools

like hungry, green children

playing King of the Hill

and you smile, all the while, sadly and sympathetically

you can’t be conquered or attained

You Are Freedom

from ourselves and others

Forever faithful

you maintained

and still do

Balance

Harmony

Equilibrium

some, perhaps too many, mistake as thunderous rage and fires of fury

flooding of tears, the melting of a cool brow, destructible winds on shaky grounds

But no

You are calm and steady

We dumped and polluted

your abundance, our solace

And you’re still attempting to clean up

our spills and rash, impulsive behavior

Ever faithful and consistent and patient for us to learn

having spoiled you now, we are spoiled

green

We are so green

You are gold

but not the kind to plunder

or covet or trade or barter over

You are not to own

not a commodity

but we still have now

the seeds that we have sown

this doing is not yours

but entirely our own

If only now

we were fully grown.


Are you working on a draft for this week’s writing prompt and want to chat about it or share it with us? Join the BRAND NEW Facebook Group for Daily Drafts & Dialogues Writers, or join the Forum on this site.

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