Poem of the Month: August 2007

Something is very gently,
invisibly, silently,
pulling at me--a thread
or net of threads
finer than cobweb and as
elastic. I haven't tried
the strength of it. No barbed hook
pierced and tore me. Was it
not long ago this thread
began to draw me? Or
way back? Was I
born with its knot about my
neck, a bridle? Not fear
but a stirring
of wonder makes me
catch my breath when I feel
the tug of it when I thought
it had loosened itself and gone.

--Denise Levertov

Journal prompts:

• What is the thread that tugs at you?
• Review the seeming inevitabilities of your life. Which feel like nooses? Which feel like bridles? Which feel like nets?
• Reflect on the lines, "I haven't tried / the strength of it."
• Is there a big vision in you that is waiting to be birthed?