The Brave New

It smells of parsley and split peas,
Green circling green
In my crockpot.

The wind stirs up white against white,
bullies the bland winter skies,
the tasteless backyard snow.
Evergreens sway,
But won't let the wind see them shiver.

And I wish it again (as if wishing works)
That I could be
Green with flavor
Or green with year-round grit.
And not wide-eyed green,
The one who hasn't walked the block around.
The rookie.

And I wish it again (is the third time a charm?)
That I was brave enough
To wear the flavor or brave the wind,
Or to walk un-shivering into new.


::

Ok, so bear with me for a minute. While my random posting of a (kind-of) poem might baffle those of you expecting consistent content (yeah, whatever that is), I do have a reason for it. You see, I've been struggling with fear of what lies outside my comfort zone for my entire life the past few months. I gravitate toward the familiar path, and I'm certain (yes certain) we're heading straight for its unbeaten opposite in 2010.

And I'm a total chicken when it comes to poetry and fiction. So, I figured, what better way to cultivate bravery than to push myself with a poetry writing prompt over at Seedlings in Stone.

(And here's hoping I sway, but don't shiver, when I hit publish.)