I met with some of the people from my writing group yesterday. In the project of writing a novel in a month, one of the stipulations was that we meet and write for two hours in the presence of others to show that we are dedicated and serious about writing. I actually write more at home, but it is nice to have support and that helps us not to lose heart.
The weather yesterday caused me to write the following.
Hanging heavily, sodden, leaden sky
obscuring the sun, reflected in puddles that lie,
The water fills depressions, as depression fills the soul.
Thick gray, scrub-water clouds come oozing across the knoll.
They seem to cast their shadows in my heart.
Gloomy weather maybe beautiful painted as art,
but it weighs heavily on my mind and I carry its weight.
Soggy mess seems to chill and make a sorry state.
Sun! burst through these heavy veiled clouds and shine.
Put forth your bright warming rays. Light the world and all will be fine.
The weather affects my mood, the outside affects my inside.
Sun make me happy. I want the rain to subside.
I decide to write and make my own sun.
As I lift my pen, the parting of the clouds has begun.
Transported to another world by my paper and my pen.
A warm and sandy beach is transformed from a soggy fen.
Time has slipped away. Day has become night,
but in lands of paper and pen, it still remains light.
When you read my words, you can visit me in my wonderland
where I can turn thick slimy mud into golden sand.