the secret is to
the secret is to draw yourself a steaming hot bath,
so hot it prickles your skin.
Add in the Epsom salts and the pink Himalayan.
Swirl in some frankincense oil.
Light the tea lights and open the skylight a crack.
Then shut your eyes and let the hot water take you away.
Maybe you drift off so far you find yourself asleep.
The secret is to follow the dark,
the tense, the uncomfortable.
Let it wash over you.
Anoint you with its words.
How to write a poem:
drip oil onto your naked flash
as if your body is indeed a temple.
Mix a brew of bay leaf tea—
few days after plucking so the
green leaves crisp up.
And, yes, stare out of the window.
Pay attention. Notice. Listen.
What speaks to you?
Moves through you?
Grab those little wisps.
Grab your favourite pen and notebook and off you go.
Or speak what you see into the voice memo on your phone.
Catch the beauty:
the sudden flock of birds that cross the sky
the warmth of the sun—
a long forgotten memory.
Keep paying attention.
The poem will find you—chase you down or
gently nudge your pen into this ink shape
or that ink shape.
How to write a poem?
Start by living a life.
Open the curtains.
Let the misty day greet you.