Wildacres Day 10

Wildacres Day10

Tuesday, July 9, 2013, was another beautiful, sunny day at Wildacres.  Marci, Carol and I met to meditate at 7 a.m. again. At breakfast I suggested to Marsha that we go for a run. She said she and Marci were planning an afternoon hike instead, so I said that would be great.

Then I returned to my room, worked on my blog, and wrote the poem, “Mountain High,”  which appears at the end of yesterday’s entry. Then I wrote the abededarial form poem that appears at the end of today’s entry. I felt good writing two poems in one day. This place is very inspiring. All the other writers are also saying they are amazed at how productive they are here.

After lunch, Marci, Marsha, and I hiked the Loop Trail, which was a beautiful hike part-way down the western slope of the mountain on which Wildacres is built. All three of us had a terrific time. It was a tough two-hour hike over rugged mountain terrain, so all of us got an intense workout.

After dinner, there were student readings in the auditorium. I had signed up to read, and I was very nervous. I decided to read my San Francisco poem because I think of it as a “crowd pleaser,” but I was not sure what this mostly Southern crowd would think of it. I was 12^th to read. All the previous students were excellent. I was expecting there to be a “clunker” in the group, but it all sounded good to me. Some read prose, and some read poetry.

I got very nervous. When it was my turn, my heart was pounding in my chest. I read it quickly, as usual. The four-minute time-limit bell went off just before the end. I read the last four lines and bowed. The reaction was gratifying. It sounded like thunderous applause to me. As I walked back to me seat, people gave me compliments. The people sitting near my patted my shoulders and said it was great. The next student reader said, “How do I follow that?” After the readings, I was flooded with compliments. People actually crowded around me to tell me how much they loved my poem. The instructor of my class, Jessica Handler, said she loved it too.

When I got back to the Guest House, my buddy Will said, “I wanted to jump up and yell, “That’s my roomie!”

Will and I sat on the porch again and watched the thunderstorm roll through the valley below us. After we both went to bed, the thunderstorm rolled across Wildacres.

Somehow I managed to re-read and critique two of my classmate’s pieces for the next day’s class.

At the end of Monday’s class, Jessica suggested we each try writing an “abecedarian,” in which the first line of every poem begins with a different letter of the alphabet, in alphabetical order. Here is my attempt:

Appalachian Abecedarian

Appalachian mountain ridges

Beckon to me to find myself.
Deer and bear welcome me
Every time I
Follow my heart into the Blue Ridge.
God is all around me and in me
High in the mountains.
I know this is my true home.
Just watching a mountain sunset
Keeps me peaceful and calm.

Love of the
Mountains fills me with joy.
Natural surroundings,
Open spaces,
Picturesque vistas,
Quaint mountain hamlets,
Rustic homesteads
Sustain and nurture me.

Tired from a day of hiking, I

Unroll my sleeping bag and
Venture into my tent as
Wistful evening birdsong sounds like a
Xylophone in the distance, and then I
Yawn, stretch, and close the
Zipper on my tent.

 

--James W. Kershner, July 2013, Wildacres