I wrote my first poem when I was 6. Not that I was already a genius at such a tender age, though. But writing a poem for Mother’s Day with the possible outcome of winning a trip to Paris was something I could do. For a little French girl from a provincial town (you jog round *hello Smiths fan*), the Eiffel Tower was the ultimate magical place you could only dream of seeing once in your lifetime (disclaimer: that was before I experienced actual life in Paris, and before Disney invaded Marne-la-Vallée).
Oh, I was one of the 5 winners. And my mum got a lovely heart pendant, gift from the City of Dijon. We don’t do only mustard over there, I told ya.
Fast forward to high school: I have to write a poem in French class. I’m so bored. And in true teenage fashion, all I can think about is how life sucks and I’m such a rebel.
I wrote my first poem in English yesterday. That WishBIG e-camp course is decidedly making me do strange things, you know.
I am not going to share that poem with you. Maybe because I feel the world is not ready for it and I don’t want this poem to strike you like a lightning bolt. Or maybe because I forgot my notebook at home and I’m blogging from work. You choose.
Instead, I’ll share with you a poem that Liz Lamoreux, responsible for the writing of the above mentioned secret poem, shared with us campers at the beginning of the workshop. Why? Because it’s beautiful, there is no better reason.
Read it out loud. Do it.
START CLOSE IN
Start close in, don’t take the second step or the third, start with the first thing close in, the step you don’t want to take.
Start with the ground you know, the pale ground beneath your feet, your own way of starting the conversation.
Start with your own question, give up on other people’s questions, don’t let them smother something simple.
To find another’s voice, follow your own voice, wait until that voice becomes a private ear listening to another.
Start right now take a small step you can call your own don’t follow someone else’s heroics, be humble and focused, start close in, don’t mistake that other for your own.
Start close in; don’t take the second step or the third, start with the first thing close in, the step you don’t want to take.