Tag Archives: Sylvia Plath

Read a poem every day

Hello,

This is my 100th blog post! Wow! I’ve been a little (okay incredibly) flakey since we returned from our big trip around the world, but lately I’ve found more time on my hands thanks to my decision to quit social media.

I’ve been reading a book about how we can make and break habits. It’s called “Better Than Before” by Gretchen Rubin.

Usually on a morning, the first thing I’d do would be to grab my iPhone and spend a few minutes trawling through Facebook and Instagram. I felt like this was putting my mind in a bad state for the day, and so, decided to create a new habit to replace social media. I now read a poem as soon as I wake up every day.

I plonk a book of poetry on my bedside table and it’s there awaiting me in the morning, so I don’t have to move or think about it. Also, poems are usually quite short, or you can always flick through until you find a short one, so it doesn’t feel too much of a burden.

I love how I can wake up and feel a bit more inspired than before.

Before setting myself this challenge, I hardly read poetry. I’m now slowly working through my poetry books. This is great for my goodreads reading challenge, where I set myself the challenge of reading 60 books in 2017. I’m currently on book number 44/60, and it’s mid october, so I’ve got to pull my finger out!

I’ll leave you with a poem by Alice Oswald from her collection: “Falling Awake”

A Short Story of Falling

It is the story of the falling rain
to turn into a leaf and fall again
it is the secret of a summer shower
to steal the light and hide it in a flower
and every flower a tiny tributary
that from the ground flows green and momentary
is one of water’s wishes and this tale
hangs in a seed-head smaller than my thumbnail
if only I a passerby could pass
as clear as water through a plume of grass
to find the sunlight hidden at the tip
turning to seed a kind of lifting rain drip
then I might know like water how to balance
the weight of hope against the light of patience
water which is so raw so earthy-strong
and lurks in cast-iron tanks and leaks along
drawn under gravity towards my tongue
to cool and fill the pipe-work of this song
which is the story of the falling rain
that rises to the light and falls again

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