I’m having great fun mining my old freewrites and writing a poem a day for 30 days. If you don’t have enough freewrites for that, why not do 10 freewrites in 10 days? These little challenges can jump start our commitment to writing and get the juices flowing. Here’s my poem for today, #20, from the prompt “Standing on the cold ground”:

Barefoot on the cold ground
the monks in their red robes.
A heavy mist cloaks their shoulders
and the traditional naked arm—
willing to be uncomfortable,
to expand their comfort range
and with it, their compassion.

Too in love with comfort,
the wild nature starts to doze
and becomes a restless longing.
Pillows won’t keep us
from the cold ground of being,
silver as ice—
a tundra spreading with no relief.

A fortitude wakes up
and we are skating,
laughing at the numbness in our fingers,
in love with the elements.

Let the wolves howl.
Put away the shotguns and the sheep.

There is no cure for hot and cold.