The practice of writing poetry is an exercise in mindfulness. To be open to the universe of words and to put them down on a page is nothing short of a miracle. - Margaret Simon
At the start of May, there is always an urgency for me to explore what nature has to offer. This year, quarantine life left Long Islanders longing for the joy of a sunny day, the exploration of sandy beaches, and the call of the gulls. When newspaper headlines stated, "LIers flock to state beaches, parks amid warm weather," my husband decided to hop in the car with his mask and head to the beach. Wanting to be present with the sea once again, my son and I joined him. As we traveled to Jones Beach State Park, I noticed the clear waterway sparkling like diamonds. It was uplifting but as we turned into the park entrance, I was alarmed by the number of cars gathering. We did not stay there because social distancing appeared not to be regarded. Instead, we traveled to the next beach town. Along the way, we saw at least 40 people on a line waiting (six feet away from each other) for the ice cream store to open. Our short stay at the next beach in Long Beach, allowed me to briefly satisfy my urge to be present in a moment of joy. On that sandy beach, I felt the sunshine, listened to the roaring waves and watched seagulls dive and swoop as scavengers of life. I communed with nature, the ever-present healer, and gave thanks for a few moments of relaxation during my quarantine life.
At the start of May, there is always an urgency for me to explore what nature has to offer. This year, quarantine life left Long Islanders longing for the joy of a sunny day, the exploration of sandy beaches, and the call of the gulls. When newspaper headlines stated, "LIers flock to state beaches, parks amid warm weather," my husband decided to hop in the car with his mask and head to the beach. Wanting to be present with the sea once again, my son and I joined him. As we traveled to Jones Beach State Park, I noticed the clear waterway sparkling like diamonds. It was uplifting but as we turned into the park entrance, I was alarmed by the number of cars gathering. We did not stay there because social distancing appeared not to be regarded. Instead, we traveled to the next beach town. Along the way, we saw at least 40 people on a line waiting (six feet away from each other) for the ice cream store to open. Our short stay at the next beach in Long Beach, allowed me to briefly satisfy my urge to be present in a moment of joy. On that sandy beach, I felt the sunshine, listened to the roaring waves and watched seagulls dive and swoop as scavengers of life. I communed with nature, the ever-present healer, and gave thanks for a few moments of relaxation during my quarantine life.
This past week, some poet friends were writing epistolary poems or letter poems so I decided to write one also.
On May 1, 2020, at Today's Little Ditty, Michelle H. Barnes spotlighted Margaret Simon. Michelle asked Margaret to choose the month of May's Ditty of the Month challenge. She chose poems of presence with this prompt: write a mindful poem about the present moment and add it to the DMC padlet. I am offering the above poems, hoping for feedback. These poems will be added to my #NatureNurtures 2020 Gallery.























