The Muse Demands Poetry

I’m obsessed with this picture of the full moon. As soon as I took it, my muse started insisting that there’s a poem in that image. I’m not really a poet. My mind’s eye doesn’t often break things down into the kind of vivid, discrete pieces that poetry seems to require. But after a couple of days when my muse refused to shut up about it, I decided that I could give it a try.

I can focus on details in a scene as a way to create a vivid mental picture for the reader. I’m not sure how poets go about putting the images in their heads into words, but I figured maybe I could use the same techniques that I use in my prose. I started brainstorming a list of words and phrases that come to mind when I contemplate the picture.

• Reflected light on an ancient face
• Winter bare limbs reaching for the cosmos
• Ageless motif of a universal dance
• Changing sameness

So far, that’s all I’ve got. I need to say something about how everything is connected – the old trope about when a butterfly in the rain forest flaps its wings it creates a storm over the ocean. And how billions of people looking on the same moon in the same night sky makes the ways in which we are different seem smaller, less significant. I haven’t been able to get those ideas honed enough to fit into the structure of a poem so I need to spend more time reflecting on the image.

I’m not sure if this is how real poets approach their work. Maybe they’re born with their brains working the ‘right’ way for poetry or maybe they train themselves to see the world in a way that builds their skills.

Even if this image never leads to an actual poem, I figure engaging in this kind of philosophical experiment will build my writing skills.