I Once Was Lost

I am scribbler,
seeker,
word scavenger.

Flit and flutter,
dot-to-dot
soul.

I will
clack black,
indigo,
and make worlds
of all this silence.

 

A found poem scavenged from my own poem journal, for day 4 of Grace’s 28 days of self-love. 

 

Here’s the journal entry: 
I am finding myself in word chains.
I am a scribbler, a seeker of phrase, a collector of poem-soft petals in every pocket. I am a word scavenger, scooping them into buckets and distant skies. I am holding them loosely, letting them flit and flutter, fly themselves into their own formation. I will dot-to-dot these word stars, make them mine but let them go. I will allow the world to be held at bay so that I can spill my soul to page. I will un-puzzle my own presence and purpose right here on this snow-white sheet, blowing in the breeze. I will make word-wishes on dandelion fluff. I will sit butt in chair and clack black, take indigo pen to pale blue lines, refine and re-de-fine myself right here in ink. I will make worlds of all this silence.

 

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