The Aspiring Bard

Source Gracious moon Stands watch Throughout the dawn, Winks down upon The light-befuddled moths. Two old farmers stand, Discussing, Shouldered rakes And soil-wet. Day's work done While I was waking? Westward-facing; A single window marks The rising sun, Sleepy village turns  From brown to pink.  Dawn crept slowly in Upon a waft Of second-steeping tea. The farmers joined my watch, The birds my prayer, And village lights winked out Before the sun.

The ocean flung us wide Her treasure store And gifted us her blue And silver bright. Source unknown

Bells ring out Along the gusty docks As waves dance in And clapper all  The boats at harbor there. Source

Comino dips her toes Into the sea While froth-tipped amethyst Rides high Upon her knee And brings her tidings Of a distant shore.  Comino is the small, barren island that lies between Malta and Gozo. During the summer, Comino's beaches are crowded with bathers, but the first rains of fall find her alone again. 

Suddenly, the tiny boats go by And swallows dance upon The autumn wind. A vagabond, a gypsy rover, I Explore the world through paper And a pen. 

Source Here's the place where I stand tall With grasses woven in my hair, Cedar groves to shelter me And hills to rise and look afar. Landscape etched upon my heart, Rooted, firm, in this, my clay.

You sing me now A twilit symphony  Of shore and wave And silver crescent moon. Your peace and glory  Overwhelm My sight, my soul; I harmonize the chorus Of the stars. 

"Just keep writing." My sister encouraged me. I followed her advice, even though my writing wasn't very good (and still isn't up to the level I someday hope to achieve). I have always been so ashamed of my writing process, of looking at my work and knowing that it's not as good as it ought to be. But lately, my perspective has begun to shift. Instead of seeing failure, I see potential. I've begun to recognize progress instead of focusing on the things that aren't coming along as nicely as I'd like. I have found a peace here, but I also recognize a danger. The peace comes from * embracing the process  and all that it has to teach me. The danger comes from a very human inclination to fall into self-satisfaction. I have no desire to join the ranks of those who have comfortably encamped in the realm of mediocrity; who have settled for the thoughtless plaudits of a world that honors glamour more than solid worth. Approbation from others isn't my ...