[stylist] new poem: Living It

[Myrna Badgerow]

Lori, I have published 4 actually. I went the self publishing route. The first was in 2004 and was released just after my husband passed away. I then published Breath of the Bayou, Bits & Pieces, and finally I Heard A Sparrow which is my most personal one to date. I used the senses of touch, taste, scent, and hearing to capture seasons from my perspective. 
Thank you so much, Lori. Your words have truly humbled me. 
Myrna

Sent from my iPhone

On Jun 11, 2012, at 6:31 PM, loristay at aol.com wrote:

> I love this poem.  I am continually impressed with the quality of your work.  Have you published a book of it?  If not, you should do so.
> Lori
> 
> 
> 
> -----Original Message-----
> From: KajunCutie926 <KajunCutie926 at aol.com>
> To: stylist <stylist at nfbnet.org>
> Sent: Mon, Jun 11, 2012 9:38 am
> Subject: [stylist] new poem:  Living It
> 
> 
> Last night during our division board meeting I  mentioned a poem I'd 
> written that had really sprained the brain.  We were  given fifteen words to 
> choose from and at least one of the words must be  included in a poem.  You 
> could 
> use one word or all fifteen or any number in  between.  Well, in a very 
> fun-spirited email the gauntlet was thrown down  and like the bull charging the 
> red cape I decided to give all fifteen a  go.  
> Here are the words we had to use, followed by the  poem.  It is both 
> attached and in email.
> 
> The required words to choose from:  compare,  quality, brick, cookie, tea, 
> division, arch, mortality, orchestra, substitute,  split, diving, flat, 
> juvenile, siding.
> 
> Living It
> 
> 
> How  does one compare the quality of life
> to the quality of living it? Perhaps  there is
> no comparison because the life we are given
> is not our choice but  the living of it is.
> There is a division, an imaginary arch that  will
> split the entities of choice and predetermined
> reality. This will  impact the other but not always
> determine the journey of our mortality.  Extraordinary
> circumstances may do this but even then we are often
> given a  chance to change the seemingly unchangeable path.
> The brick, on the hand,  would likely not choose to be a brick,
> but it has no recourse, no offered  options. Nor does
> the cookie and tea have that choice as they are but the  culinary 
> products  of another's whim. Neither can substitute a different path.
> Our avian friends  or their friends of nature cannot truly conduct
> an orchestra of their  choosing for the arias are already written
> and the conductor already holds  His baton. But how fortunate are we! 
> We  can choose to go diving into life headlong knowing we may land
> on our feet or  flat upon our backs. We can peel away the siding of
> our juvenile dreams, our  adolescent schemes, allowing
> each to spill into our adult truth, into the  life we have been
> handed, and there the magic begins!
> We mold and we  sculpt. We paint and we write. We tidy
> up some imperfections, leaving a few  to keep us honest.
> And we live! We take each moment into our hands and  we
> breathe of it. We feel the wind and we touch sky. And we thank
> the  master conductor for allowing us to offer our own
> contributions to living and  leaving our imprint on a life that
> we hope will be remembered well.
> How  very fortunate we are, indeed! 
> 
> 
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