Yes! Obscessed with Poetry - Sally Eslinger's Blog

This poem seems to be the possible stuff to cause some heartfelt sharing.  To preface, i'd like to say,  that I am TRULY THANKFUL FOR THE EXISTENSEBOF PoetrySoup and FOR ALL MY SISTER & BROTHER SOUPER, SUPER POETS!  Were it not for PS, i'd likely have penned barely 20% as many poems,; not been inspired to improve my skills from my reading of other excellent, very skilled poets;and, EITHER BE DIVORCED OR IN A SANITARIUM SOMEPLACE.  
still, my life with Our Most Holy and Glorious ABBAhas brought me to know that THERE ARE NO ACCIDENTS!  Life -- by His will has brought us all here according to His Plan.  We are threads in His talestry.  Heaven marvels.  We are thankful, and edify the Created-All.

SO,PLEASE SPEAK.  YOUR.  PASSION.  I will be quiet, eager to listen!   Blessings!

May the muse be with you!

*** Yes…Obscessed with Poetry! ***

As the moon was releasing finale beams
And the sun was dressing 
For her later, post-solstice, winter rise,
I had not yet slept, kept
Awake by epiphanies of poetics —
My tireless pen scribbling
Down 
   the rushing lyrics to their
Rising
   score.

Then, as the clouds refused to part
To reveal our sun’s well-warming
   light at her mid-day height,
I was excitedly expounding
About the knowlege my night
   with poetry had brought, revealing,
So i thought, some meaning
   about the human psyche,
More than just matters of words.

But, beyond the import
Of Poetry growing a range of spring
Violets across my night’s icy clear pages ,
An afternoon’s gust repleat 
With January hail
Fell over me after 
I exclaimed, “Amazing?”

and to hear in response —

“Look, you’re obscessed with poetry.
I’m not and I was
   just wondering how long 
       before quiet would —“

Eliminate your wondering!
As (just days before Christmas) on
A cold afternoon, a storm passed through
The city with little warning.
Flashed lightning twice over 
The sky, and sounding but once —
Thunder struck us dumb.

Quiet?
I hear inner gusts 
Smacking my tears against the windows’ panes.
My amusement is drowned within the room.
Quiet?
Perhaps…After I scream — Yes!
Yes!  I am obscessed
With poetry
   (with words and language) My vocation!
Yes! And also truly
Obscessed
  With God
    With my beloved, and our pups
      With drawing, dance and music…
But, foremost, I am obscessed —
To say and stay so,
With living
  With surviving
    in blessed Hope —
      on past the trials of ailments
            and the hard gales of age —
While
Thankful to poetry — perhaps
   anong the least of most of these,
For its patiently waiting ways —
Within the All and everyone one of us —
That we may hold a dream of seeing
  Violet buds lift their heads
      Above a layer of January snow ~
and that we may hear the poems’ rise
In a moment’s stilled brilliance
From each opening, purple petal.—————————————————————————————————————-
(c) sally you g eslinger 1/9/2023.  Thanks be to God…