They are afraid they are losing control.
Fear is powerful.
It can spread throughout the body
and paralyze or
spur someone on to action,
sometimes dangerous action,
punitive and not thought out.

What can we do. . .
those who believe in freedom of speech,
who believe in live and let live,
who revere the written word?
How can we open a book,
turn the pages lovingly,
and open up our minds
to a world of new ideas and concepts
and still feel safe ourselves?

Will someone crawl out from behind the stacks
and snatch it from our hands?
and will they even know what is in that book?
Maybe not.
They only understand what they think they know,
or what they have heard from a source,
often without validation,
usually driven by fear of what they don’t know. . .
or understand.

There are those who want to take away our ability to choose,
and the rights of parents, not government,
to make their own decisions about what their children can read,
and the rights of children to learn what is true.
What will come next?
Book burning in the square?
Giant shredders turning books into scrap?
It can’t happen, of course. . . can it?
I believe there will still be those who save the books they love,
and even those they don’t.
Let’s be those people.

© 2023 Dorothy A Joslyn

That is all I have to say about this topic at this time.

What is a book that sticks in your mind, that inspired you, taught you something, touched you, entertained you, one that you loved? Write about how and how it affected you.

What is a book that appalled you? Do you think it should be banned? Why or why not?

Write down your feelings about banning books. . . or how to save them.

I am posting this quite a bit later in the month than I usually do. Nothing came to me, and I was kind of down in the dumps, anyway. But I have become a member of a poetry community here in Springfield, Missouri, and it has perked me up. It’s an active one, doing readings all over town: in bars, the library, a church, a neighborhood gathering, book stores, a coffee house, open mics, and poetry slams, as well as wherever someone invites us or will have us! It’s fun, and the members of the group are great people and from different generations, which has given me a variety of interesting perspectives.

There is an open mic in a coffee/ice cream shop the first Friday of each month. The first couple of times I attended and read there was only a small audience, and most of us read. But, for the September reading, there were probably 40 people. The colleges in Springfield are back in session, and I think many of the attendees were college students. It was a great night. The energy was palpable, and it enhanced the reading of poems. I loved being in the company of younger people, who may see the world in an entirely different way than I do – or maybe not! But, in any case, they accepted me just as I was, too.

I wrote a poem about my experience, and I will read it to them at the October open mic:

 

I Remember

 

They are young.

They are vibrant.

They have stories to tell

that release energy,

exploding into the air.

I feel the pain,

the joy,

that they express,

and I remember.

Yes, I remember,

and they remind me

of another time,

another life,

a life left behind

willingly, joyfully,

for this life,

the one I have now.

It’s not without some grief,

some regrets,

but full of friends

and poets who nourish me,

young and older,

and remind me where I’ve been

and how lucky I am

to be here in this time,

in this space.

The energy is palpable,

real, raw, honest.

I take it in,

and remember.

 

© 2023 Dorothy A Joslyn

 

When have you been in the company of people in a range of generations? What was your experience?

“Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?”*

What is something you do or are a part of that raises your spirits? What about it makes you happy?

 

*Mary Oliver (From New and Selected Poems, 1992
Beacon Press, Boston, MA, Copyright 1992 by Mary Oliver.
All rights reserved.)

 

We had some lovely days here in Southwest Missouri to bring May to an end, and now maybe we’re ready for June. Summer will arrive soon and probably hot, humid weather, as well, but we can look back and remember how the beautiful spring days made us smile and look forward to fall and the cool down. But, wait! No! Let’s bask in summer’s offerings: trees leafed out, bright flowers in bloom, fresh produce from the farmers’ market, lush grass to walk on barefoot, coats and jackets stored away for a few months, so many things! I do love, when I go out, to just open the door, slip my feet into sandals and step out without thinking of grabbing a coat and bundling up.

I don’t know what my summer will bring, but I’m ready to get started. Are you? My mom’s birthday is in June, so I will be meeting my sisters in Illinois, where she lives, for her 91st birthday. No party, she doesn’t want a party, just family time with lots of talk and some laughter and love. It’s quite a milestone that she has entered her 90s, and we celebrate each day of her continuing life.

There will be some short excursions with friends. I have several small groups of women friends with whom I like to spend time doing different things. We like to get together for a variety of events and games and just visiting, which always culminates with food! It doesn’t matter the season; we just have fun sharing our lives and stories and being together.

Here is a poem I’ve written, which is my take on the four seasons we have here in the Ozarks:

Seasons

Seasons come one at a time,
each with its own pleasures,
joys, activities –
and downsides, too,

but we are better
when we take them as they come,
enjoying the variety they bring
and just living within them.

The year begins in winter,
cold, dark, but with crisp, fresh air
and opportunities to spend time indoors
with books and music and friends.

Then spring begins to bloom;
flowers come back to life,
grass grows thick and green,
and trees wake up, putting out their leaves.

Summer arrives with its myriad outdoor activities
and heat to warm our bodies and souls,
shade from trees, a welcome respite,
and fresh produce bulging from our bags.

Finally, fall drifts in, a mixed bag of weather,
but mostly relief from summer’s blast,
colors bursting from trees then falling to the ground,
and cool nights where we can rest.

Seasons are the backdrops of our lives,
hovering around us,
giving us a context for our beingness
and practice for change.

© 2023 Dorothy A Joslyn

 

Write about your favorite season. What do you like about it? What are some of the activities you do in that season?

How about summer? What do you like and dislike? What fun things do you do in the summer?

Write about friendships: things you do together, secrets your reveal to your best friend, things about individual friends you like and/or admire.

April has crept up on me, but time has a way of doing that. Spring is definitely showing itself in all its glory here in Missouri: flowers, birds, warm weather, being more comfortable outdoors. It’s an uplifting time.

The picture above is of my neighbor’s and my phlox collection, planted just last summer. They survived the winter, even showing a bloom or two between cold snaps. But, they are in their element now. Seeing them whenever I go out makes me happy.

April is also National Poetry Month. I spent last weekend at the National Association for Poetry Therapy (NAPT) conference in Denver. It was a wonderful conference with great workshops, outstanding speakers, and comfortable camaraderie. These people are one of my tribes. I’ve been a part of the association for at least 20 years, maybe a few more than that. I haven’t been active for a few years, because I stopped facilitating groups and resigned from the board. But I have attended conferences off and on since then.

I attended this conference because I missed my people, but also because of the keynote poet, Naomi Shihab Nye, one of my favorite poets. She did not disappoint. Her presentation, reading, and interview were fantastic. She is genuine and very personable, just as I’d hoped. The keynote speaker, Joy Sawyer, was dynamic, too. She recapped the history and work of NAPT and its people very well. I know her personally and was delighted to see her again after many years. The workshops I attended were well prepared and excellent. There are many talented people in this organization.

Poetry can be, and is, used in therapy, just as art, music, and other creative activities are. I facilitated groups at my local National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI) for several years using my NAPT training and credentials and watched it work, and work well.

I wrote a brief poem based on my experience at the conference:

The Conference

People gathering,
excited for the opportunity of being together
finally again in person after the Covid pandemic has eased.
We smile and laugh and I bask in my happiness.
In a whirlwind of activity with
speakers, poetry, workshops, and just hanging out,
we exchange experiences, personal and professional,
and give each other encouragement – and our attention.
Poetry abounds in an atmosphere of acceptance,
the open mic a showcase for our work
in all our different guises. We blossom.
In this insulated environment,
we are free to be who we are with each other.
It’s for only a few days, but we can relax
and enjoy the process and the progress we have made.

Write about one of your tribes if you have one or more. What keeps you together?

What is your favorite writing time? Write about why that is a good time for you.

Write about your experience at a conference. What did you come away with?

I am sitting here today thinking about love in all its forms. It’s been a gloomy, cold week so far with snow and ice. So the peek of sun earlier today was a welcome sight. I love sunlight and how it’s melting some of the snow and ice, especially on the roads. It has been a little treacherous the past few days. I’ve stayed inside except for a couple of appointments I needed to keep, and then I went to the appointments and right back home. Luckily, I love being at home, too.

So, love can mean many things, including the mundane love of weather, places, things, and especially people, which isn’t mundane at all. It’s what keeps us functioning on a higher level, I think.

In this month that includes Valentine’s Day, it’s a good time to think about love and to reach out to those we love: spouses, family, friends, and mankind in general, and tell them how much we love them. We’re all fairly quirky in our own ways, but love can bridge gaps that may create. If you think about it, it’s miraculous that we can love each other as much as we do. And heartening. It gives me hope when so much negativity prevails at times.

Here is a poem I found that uplifted my heart:

I Love You, by Roy Croft

I love you,
Not only for what you are,
But for what I am when I am with you.

I love you,
Not only for what you have made of yourself,
But for what you are making of me.

I love you for
The part of me that you bring out;
I love you for
Putting your hand into my heaped-up heart
And passing over all the foolish, weak things
That you can’t help dimly seeing there,
And for drawing out into the light
All the beautiful things
That no one else had looked
Quite far enough to find.

I love you because you have done
More than any creed
Could have done
To make me good,
And more than any fate could have done
To make me happy.

You have done it
Without a touch,
Without a word,
Without a sign.
You have done it by being yourself
Perhaps that is what
Being a friend means, after all.

Write about a friend or someone else you love that embodies this poem.

Write a love poem to a friend, a lover, a family member and consider giving it to that person,

What do you love about your life? Write about it.