Poetry Is a Bird

Poetry is a bird.
Prose is....a potato.

So said Billy Collins, two-time American Poet Laureate, this past weekend at a conference I attended in Nashville.

It has made me rethink my whole blog.

I have had poetry on the blog,
and I have had birds on the blog.

But I've also had a whole lot of potatoes on the blog.

So here is word of gratitude to you loyal potato eaters (my least favorite Van Gogh, by the way....) Thank you for reading my prose-filled blog entries!

And to relieve you of the boredom of eating potatoes, here is a poem I came across, written by yours truly in fifth grade, I believe. I also wrote music to go with it, but I don't know how to put that on here just now. (With the music it comes aross more rhythmically than it does on its own.)

Look into my eyes,
And you will have a surprise,
Because I wear false eyelashes.

NB: for the record, I never had false eyelashes. I do remember learning of their existence and thinking them a very strange thing. Thus the little song.

Acquarius

I just went out to water my backyard petunias, which means only three plants, two in hangers. They looked like they really needed it, and I realized it must have been several days since I watered them.

I don't enjoy watering plants, mostly because most of the watering has to be done in the summer, when it's hot. I've lived in the South most of my life, but I've never gotten used to the heat. I get migraines from it and sometimes feel sick if I get hot enough. (It's not to the point of heat exhaustion, I've looked into that, but it really does affect me.)

Besides that, I'm lazy. When I'm in the house, it's easier to stay in the house. Good old inertia is the only explanation for not having watered the plants on the porch.

Oh, no, there's also forgetfulness. I was blonde at one time, for a long time, you know. And that artsy-absentminded-professory type, just that somehow I became a therapist instead of an artist or a professor. But anyway, the personality stayed the same, and I am good at getting absorbed in one thing and forgetting about all kinds of other things.

So, as I was on the porch just now, watering the poor pink petunias, the thought came to me that according to the Zodiac, I'm an Acquarius. A Water Carrier!

And while I'm not planning to start orienting my life by astrology, there's something about having that ancient symbol to connect with that makes the idea of watering over the summer seem a bit more doable.

Maybe I can get myself a toga to wear, a uniform, for this important duty. Something to make it more adventurous. Maybe I'll go buy a new watering can. And I must start wearing my hat when it gets hot. Though the wide-brimmed straw hat would not quite go with a toga....

Well, I'm just thinking out loud. I have a feeling the biggest part of this is my old friend discipline. Training myself to think about it, remember it, do it, and just deal with the heat. Years ago I heard that discipline means remembering what it is you really want. And while I want to stay inside and not get hot, especially not get migraines, I also really want my plants to survive. It really isn't fair to plant them and then neglect them.

But I know myself well enough to believe that the Acquarius image just might help! It doesn't hurt to have fun in the process of being disciplined, does it?

Bird in the Morning

Like the king going to check on Daniel in the lion's den, I arose early in the morning and went to check on the bird.

It was still there, though it had hopped up from the flowerpot to a new perch on the scrollwork.

And I saw an adult robin on the mailbox nearby that seemed very much to be keeping its eye out for the little one.

Since that morning I haven't seen it, so I'm assuming that with the mama nearby, the little one got its flying lessons and is off exploring the wider neighborhood now.