One March Morning
Outside my window this morning, I heard a red robin sing.
Did I see the song?
Did I smell the song?
Did I taste the song?
Did I touch the song?
I wore the red song.
Spread my wings, and
soared the sky.
I saw the seas and the land,
against the blue sky.
I saw the fragile earth.
Back on the firm ground.
I felt “more than” a woman—
Do not speak of writing.
Do not speak of publishing.
Do not speak of other people’s writing.
Read ravenously, voraciously.
Unravel your knots in spontaneous words.
Move your senses inwards by sitting still.
When body, heart and mind are one,
flow streams smoothly.
Other writer’s success or failure does not affect you.
Profit or loss does not touch you.
Praise or criticism does not ruffle you.
Derive pleasure solely from writing.
Feel admired and honored by the Self.
Write, simply write!