Adult Workshop Poem-Ginny Threefoot

A What-the-Workshop-Was-Like-for-Me Collage

Every meeting was a gift –
presents of words and gifts of presence.
A multiplicity of selves, each with her voice.
The beauty of listening.

My heart wants to know if we are on speaking terms.
I say to my heart: we are birds of a feather. We depend on each other.
I taught my heart how to lay down a stone.

The Art and Power of Story Making:
It’s time you spoke….
Lost in the art of words, I am found.
I am now free to look within for answers.
I compose myself.
(Homewords lead me homeward.)

Three Minute Gifts
The minutes pass without my counting them.
I am, I am, I am….
I am one who studies shadows, wondering.
I am free to hear god humming in the leaves,
to laugh and laugh.

Minor (life-saving) surgery: Left-brain Bypass

What is near can be seen anew.
What is far can be called upon.
Burdens into offerings. Curses into blessings.
Fears into kindnesses.
Here is this day. Here is this gift.
Here is my gratitude.