Writing Prompt #25
This was one of the last prompts I used with my year-long writing group. It felt appropriate for these late, spring days. I was inspired by the explosions of peonies in my garden.
Exuberance!
First, read Mary Oliver’s “Peonies” poem.
(P.S. Who else is excited for the Saved by the Beauty of the World documentary coming out August 25th?)
Peonies
This morning the green fists of the peonies are getting ready
to break my heart
as the sun rises,
as the sun strokes them with his old, buttery fingers
and they open–
pools of lace,
white and pink–
and all day the black ants climb over them,
boring their deep and mysterious holes
into the curls,
craving the sweet sap,
taking it away
to their dark, underground cities–
and all day
under the shifty wind,
as in a dance to the great wedding,
the flowers bend their bright bodies,
and tip their fragrance to the air,
and rise,
their red stems holding
all that dampness and recklessness
gladly and lightly,
and there it is again–
beauty the brave, the exemplary,
blazing open.
Do you love this world?
Do you cherish your humble and silky life?
Do you adore the green grass, with its terror beneath?
Do you also hurry, half-dressed and barefoot, into the garden,
and softly,
and exclaiming of their dearness,
fill your arms with the white and pink flowers,
with their honeyed heaviness, their lush trembling,
their eagerness
to be wild and perfect for a moment, before they are
nothing, forever?
Source: New and Selected Poems (Beacon Press).
What makes you feel exuberant? What do you rush out “half-dressed and barefoot” to see or witness? Is there something during this transition from spring to summer that is calling to you or calling you outside? Something that keeps catching your eye? Write for 15 minutes.
Follow-up: Do her questions resonate with you? Write a brief response to each one,
Do you love this world?
Do you cherish your humble and silky life?
Do you adore the green grass, with its terror beneath?
Do you also hurry, half-dressed and barefoot, into the garden,
and softly,
and exclaiming of their dearness,
fill your arms with the white and pink flowers,
with their honeyed heaviness, their lush trembling,
their eagerness
to be wild and perfect for a moment, before they are
nothing, forever?
Happy almost summer, friends!
