The nonsense I’m telling myself in April
My NaPoWriPo Diary: Prompt Twenty-Nine
The end is almost nearly practically nigh
Have you heard about those mandalas made of granules of crushed coloured stone? The monks spend weeks painstakingly making them, only to shake them back to so much sand at the end. Well, I can tell you now I’m not deleting these blogs unless enlightenment sneaks up behind me and hits me on the head really really hard. Twenty-nine days, twenty-nine blogs — if I survive the day then there’ll be a thirtieth tomorrow. And they’ll likely stay clogging up my profile page forever as no-one will tell me how to fix that other than unlisting which is nearly as drastic as deletion.
The end is now nigh, and I’m unravelling, not always a bad thing. Becoming unwound, and loose stitched brings its own relief and sense of new possibilities. How does the coloured sand feel when it is poured into a river to be free? And then there’s SADIM (Story a Day in May) around the corner — but let’s not get ourselves too tangled up too soon.
Your Prompt
Should you accept it…
Write a poem about unravelling, disentanglement, becoming undone. So a poem of transformation or at least preparation for transformation, but is it more specific than…
