finding creativity

As one of my many new year's resolutions this year, I started taking writing classes again.  And after one of our ten-minute writing exercises, inspired by words and phrases around us, I came up with this:

It was a chain reaction
our heated and passionate
talks in the hallway
turned into sinfully good
times in our own created
enchanting island.

We were native souls,
flirty without a hint of care
but inspired at every turn
from the leather bound books
that embraced us to my
dangling braids the color of honey.

Sadie said I was dragging her old habit,
but the apple of my cheeks
still craved for your lips.

And oh, wasn't it a universal appeal?

She said stop fretting over that summer.
But what is less understood is that I didn't.
I just missed the chocolate deliveries
and honey-glazed turkey we shared.

After this writing exercise, I was tickled.  It was the closest thing to a poem that I've written in a VERY LONG TIME.  And probably not my best work.  We had ten minutes to flip through magazines and books for phrases that jumped at us.  And another ten minutes to put it all in one piece.  But still, I wrote a poem.  It was a breakthrough. 

Because you see, I have always believed that in able to write a poem, you have to be courageous enough to delve into your soul, tear your heart apart and pull it outside of you.  Let the world touch it and influence it.  Let the world break it, dissect it, and put it back to pieces.  You have to allow yourself to be vulnerable.   

After that class, I felt alive again.  Me again. 

And yesterday, I took these pictures during my hike.  I wanted to capture the remains of raindrops on a flower.  Not bad, I say.  :)