Black Gold: The Art of Communication

I have been writing poetry since the fifth grade when Karen Klein and I became blood sisters. (We each poked our finger with a sterilized needle to exchange blood to then blot a red stain onto a cigarette butt to swear our sisterhood.) They were corny poems with light rhyming with right and seem rhyming with dream. But in high school, I took writing classes seriously and particularly enjoyed creative and poetry writing. I studied writing in college and although I am not a disciplined writer now, I do like to fancy myself a writer of sorts. In times of trouble, I have always seemed to turn to my poetry to help express myself. At times, it was the only way I knew how to communicate. Above and beyond my speaking skills, it is my creative writing that gets to the heart of how I see the world. This week, I'd like to share a closer piece of myself with you through a recently written poem:

Black Gold by Jill Diamond

The little dusting of the trees on the mountaintop makes me feel a fool for wanting life to move so fast.

When the clouds touch my soul my spirit like the breeze does fly to perch upon the highest branch to watch this wondrous world.

Without the words to sing a song, my voice is mute in reverence.

For what I thought was mine, is not.
And the stars I follow hold secrets they can never tell.

If I hold on too tight I may never feel free
and if I wander too far, I may miss this mystery.

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