Ode, Verse, Ryhme, Poem: Freedom With Words

Ode to the windI went for a walk today, words tumbling around my head. I want to write more. Could it be an ode, verse, rhymes or a poem. Actually, they are all the same in many ways. They are me letting the words out.

I’ve been working up to a decision. Part of it has been to publish my book. And to write my daily blogs. But underneath the writer is still hoping to be set completely free. So I’ve run five Inspired 2 Write challenges to make sure that for each set of twenty eight days I doubled up on my writing. And I’ve submitted articles against the pull of my ego which is trying to keep me in a box. But the decision has still been unconfirmed. Lurking in my mind but not necesssarily expressed. Though I have even set the publishing date for my next book. Today I was on the beach. Letting the wind blow the cobwebs away. Thinking about my love of poetry. Each verse, ode, rhyme or poem I could recall a snippet of.

The lines where whirling about my head as if a flock of birds had appeared. There was a seat placed handily at the edge of the beach. So I sat down to work out why my decision to write still didn’t feel like it was complete. Why I still felt a box around my creativity. I felt someone else on the bench with me. Suddenly the wind blew all those words in my mind into some sort of order. A poem started to write itself. Out came my phone and I pressed the keys as fast as I could to capture my ode to the wind. Ignoring the ego urge to make it rhyme I tapped away without real conscious thought. It felt so free. Writing that emerged from my creative brain. The intuitive bit. My Third Eye chakra tingled like crazy.

The wind blew my hair into my eyes. But my fingers tapped on. I had to capture the essence of this moment in my words. My ode had to be completed.

I felt it was an ode – the kind of poem devoted to the praise of a person, animal, or thing, written in varied or irregular metre, expresses deep feeling – though I’m not the kind of person to think of that term. But the Spirit sharing the bench with me clearly thought that’s what I should be writing. He kept reminding me to listen to my words. Out they poured. As if they had been waiting some time to be freed. When I was finished I sat and looked at the waves tumbling and turning as they flowed into the bay. Like the words had tumbled out from me. I remembered my love of words. Of writing. And I also remembered my poems. As a child I made up lots of rhymes and verses. I shared them with anyone who would listen.

Even my pets, the sky, my little brothers. Then somewhere about High School my poetry slipped away. Lost in all the comparisons about ‘great’ verse. My writing slipped away too. Gently, without much of a fight, I started to write the way everyone else did. Today I made my decision concrete. My ode is my freedom to write again the way I want. Because I want to express my love of words that way. In the end it isn’t about a great piece of poetry. It’s really about me expressing me. Taking that step of sharing my words because I hope that others will enjoy them. And making it possible for other people to be inspired. I would like people to read my words and say ‘if she can do it, so can I’. Because I am no different from anyone else. We all use words if we choose to.

Finally, I am willing to try to communicate in any way I can. As a way of sharing the love and power of words. Words used to heal, to teach, to share. So here is my ode. Although I suspect someone more technically qualified might call it a poem instead!

It’s choppy out at sea
On my bench all is calm
Yes, the wind whips through my hair
Lifting it the way it lifts the sea
Catching my clothes
And rattling my toggles
But I am peaceful
The storm inside has died
Washed away with my tears
Of regret, of anger, of fear, of despair
The wind brings tears of release
The freedom to be me
Steady and eternal, like wind and sea
Timeless Spirit
At home in any setting
Feeling the wind warp and wrap around me
Me and the sea, driven before the wind
As the waves crash their white tops
Share the constant energy of change and renewal
I am renewed too by the wind
I am me

And there it is. My words from today. I’m sharing it to urge you to explore your own writing. Ode, verse, rhyme, poem. It doesn’t matter what it’s called. Please try to write it down. I know you will discover the magical freedom of words if you try.

Day 678 of my blogging challenge