I have returned! I am retreated and cabined and hopefully, with my head screwed on straight. I had a beautiful retreat, which left me speechless and deeply calm. I had the opposite experience immediately after, with chaos and lots of people and laughter and good food and swimming and hiking. I love both, and the integration of the two worlds is my goal.
My creative activity at the retreat was writing poems. I wrote sixty three, in ten days of an hour a day. I'm very pleased. I'm going to type them up and send them to the other retreatants, as a kind of scrapbook of the retreat. It felt wonderful to write poems, which is how I began writing, until I switched to prose. In my old age, I'm loving poems again.
Here is one example:
Orchard Walk
Yesterday I wandered through the orchard
Looking at unripe fruit
miniture pears and apples
hard nuggets of their future
fleshy selves
I do like a crisp pear
but not rock hard
and I will not be here
when they ripen and fall
so I'm witnessing them on their way
to becoming
and the outcome can
only be imagined
Like my children
I watch changes
but maybe not fruition
for the younger ones
I may not see them marry
have children
or fulfill their dreams
But I can easily imagine it
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