TFE's Poetry Bus

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Chris at Enchanted Oak (there's your Technorati tag, you can thank me later) roped me into convinced me to take a ride on TOTALFECKINGEEJIT's Poetry Bus. Turns out the Bus is currently on tour and being hosted by various and sundry. This week our substitute driver is Rachel Fox who set forth a simple, if challenging theme. To wit:

1.Pick a favourite word. It can be a long word or a tiny word, a complicated word or a simple everyday one, a new word or something archaic that keeps trying to fall out of the dictionary. I really don't mind. Any word will do.
2.Write something using that word as your starting point. It can be a poem. But I use the term poem VERY loosely. Loose is good...in most instances.
3.Send me the link to your poem-post on Sunday 28th or Monday 29th March and I will add it to the Ramble Stop post on here. You can email me the link if you like (tidier...innit...send to author [at] crowd-pleasers [dot] net) or put it in the comments box here. I work different hours to our usual host-driver so if you send me something in UK daylight hours I will probably get to it fairly quickly but I don't work late into our night these days so if you send it during our (conventional) bedtime I won't get to it till the next morning. Just so you know. Plus we have family coming to visit on the Tuesday so I won't be doing much here that day either. OK?

I say simple because it isn't as if she looked up some esoteric SAT word to throw out there. I say challenging because it means selecting a single piece of meat from an endless buffet. And in the last couple of days a great many words have rumbled through this dusty attic I call a mind. So picking a particular dust bunny to elevate to prompt status wasn't an easy task. Nevertheless, the word "discovery" seems to have floated to the top of the pond more often than usual, so there we have it.

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Discovery

Watching my son
Discover his son
This new life
This new person
I think of all the
Fathers that came
Before him
Before me
Before even
My father
Introduced himself to me
In a way I imagine to be
Not very different
From what I am watching
Unfold before me

In that moment
When life is new
And you haven't yet
Had the chance
To do anything wrong
Your child, your bond
Your moment
Is perfect
Unblemished by
Misunderstanding
Or broken curfews
Or missed recitals
Possibility
Is limitless

For other links to this week's theme visit Rachel's Guest Driver Stop
This image and poem -- along with many others -- is featured in my book Distant Echoes, available from Amazon.com

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(Just so you know: The two column layout isn't a literary device. It simply allows one to read the entire verse without scrolling. Nothing brilliant at work there I'm afraid.)

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