Posted by Dale Wilsey Jr. | Posted in dale wilsey jr , focus , growth , harvest , joan didion , patience , poetry , submission , winter , words , writing | Posted on Tuesday, December 27, 2011
The words have not ripened. They're still growing within the fields of thoughts sprawling through my mind. I've spent the year gazing over the endless acres of memories. Taking a broad look. Watching the growth. Now, as the year ends and the snows near, it's time to look closer.
Now, I'll look at the pebble and not the mountain. Trace its subtle curves and grooves. I'll gaze into the puddle, not the storm, and watch each drop of rain expand through ripples. Concentrate on the minute and not the hour. It's time to focus in on the details. Harvest my words and prepare them with great care.
Pages turn as I catch up on my reading. Patience sets in while I wait for submission responses. And my pen, my typer and the keys of my laptop begin to chisel away at the granite. It's time to sit before the blank, white expanses of what could be and create. Time to roll up my sleeves like Hamsun's Isak, dig in and bleed.