Hello, Poetry Friend
Emily Dickinson’s poem #1779, which we call “To make a prairie,” is not about writing. But I think it is.
Let’s pretend that her prairie is our writing field. It is lush, full of growing things, flying things, creeping things. Some of its beauty everyone can see, and some of its beauty is known to us alone. It is nourished with poetry, tea, and something else: revery.
To make a prairie
To make a prairie it takes a clover
and one bee,–
One clover, and a bee,
And revery.
The revery alone will do
If bees are few.
-Emily Dickinson
Revery — now spelled reverie — is the secret ingredient to poeming. It means to daydream. To get lost in thought. To think nothing until Thought comes and begets. To fill another red teacup while we revere.
Do you make space for reverie? It takes quiet. It takes time.
I have one morning a week I jealously set aside for reverie. (The Muse forbids me to tell you which morning. Even admitting that it is a morning seems to have irked her. So sorry, m’lady.)
Right now I am sitting on my back patio, at the octagonal picnic table that sometimes serves as my writing desk. I can hear birds, air conditioners, a truck driving past. I can hear conjunto music coming from the workers in my house. I see a butterfly in the pink roses. A green lizard climbs up the fence. I suspect a rat has built a nest between the oleander bushes. Aha! A pair of hummingbirds!
To make a writer
To make a writer it takes a cup of tea
And one poem,–
One cup of tea, and a poem,
And revery.
The revery alone will do
If words are few.
– Megan Willome
We writers need to read poetry, but we can get overwhelmed with all the good onesour there. We tea-drinkers need tea like a Tesla needs electric juice, but we can only drink one cup at a time. Reverie is as endless as wind across the prairie.
When I miss my scheduled reverie, I might still write. I might even write a lot, but it’s never as good.
Poetry Journal
What two things do you need to write? (The third being reverie.)
This poem of Dickinson’s makes me imagine her poems hatching in a prairie. Where do yours incubate? Take wing?
My poem is an absolute rip-off of Dickinson’s. It’s a good way to practice, like a painter copying the work of the masters. Write your own poem in this form. If you like, email me what you write.
Happy poeming!
Megan
I keep coming back to this one, Megan. Revery is my new favorite word.