When I was eight-years-old, I moved in with the Bilyeus and decided I liked them enough to want to remember who they were in my life. Previous families were, and still are, a blur as nightmares or questionable realities of buried memories. So, it was then that my writing persona began.
At the time, I really only focused on journals and getting my page of writing in each day about what I had done, whether or not my brother was mean to me, thoughts about the current life I was living. It took me many years to accept that I was staying with this family and that I could call them mine.
Intermingled with all of that was poetry.
My mom was a unique mother in her lack of helicopter-parenting and reserved demeanor. I never really questioned her loyalty or affection, but I took for granted the smaller gestures that showed how well she understood me. One of those elements was in not buying me typical children’s coloring books, but she got me ones with geometric figures, images of the Greek gods and mythology, and blank books where I could color the cover but fill in the pages for myself.
Many of those books, I still have. Most are filled with my childish poems.
Yet, somewhere along my writing journey I ignored the inner poet. My creative energies focused in different areas. My writing focused on what seemed “proper writing”. Still, my journals are peppered with poems. These blog posts have poems. Poetry has been a thread throughout.
So, when I attended that yoga-writing retreat a few months ago, I discovered I actually DO write poetry. I might really be a poet AND a writer. Then, I got to work.
Shortly after the retreat, I collated all the poems that I have posted on this blog with ones from recent journals. Of course, I did not go too far back in the annals of my diaries. But, I had enough poems to create a book manuscript. After many edits, it is ready for public consumption.
More than the other two books I have published, this one brings me more pride. Perhaps, it is because these represent a true creation of my own rather than synthesizing and analyzing information for easier consumption which the Umbria books offer.
Anyway, I hope readers will enjoy these as simple offerings of silliness, thoughts, and ponderings when one leaves the clouds. More poems in the making and more ideas for books to come!
~ T π₯πβοΈ
