wordswimmer

You sit waiting  for your heart to open, to reveal the words  you need to write, like waiting for a blossom  to push its green shoots up  ou...

No matter how many poems you’ve read or how many pages you’ve turned, no matter how many rhymes and line breaks you’ve heard, no matter ...

Waiting for words to appear on the page my pen poised above a blank sheet of paper like a heron patiently watching the water as smooth as th...

A morning of starts and stops of false beginnings of missteps trying to find my footing on a path I can’t see working through silence hoping...

Before you put pen to paper you listen for a voice, for words,  for something-- a sound, an image, anything-- but hear nothing  except silen...

The mysterious rhythm of words-- how they arrive on the tip of your pen one moment and are gone the next how they flow onto the page on some...

How do you know when you're finished revising your manuscript? After the second or third pass, it's easy to believe that you're ...

It's the beginning of the year and I feel unmoored, unsure  what direction to swim in. Do you feel unmoored, too? Here we are waiting fo...

Where are you going and how do you know you're on the right path? What are the signposts  you look for? How can you see a turn coming in...

It’s the end of the year and who can count how many hours we’ve sat at our desks waiting for words while the minutes passed by and our live...

Over the years I’ve learned to sit and wait in silence for the words to come, and to sit in silence if they don’t come, and to wait in pati...

Even though I don’t live near the sea, there’s a shell path on the side of our front yard, a narrow swath of white seashells that marks th...

Sometimes it can start with an image--a red apple held in your father's hand, say, or the weathered wall of a wooden barn in Wisconsin. ...

When autumn comes, nature begins to slow down, and my brain wants to go into a deep sleep. It’s the time of year when some of us come...