A very quick writer’s life update: Last December I was diagnosed with stage four colorectal cancer and started chemo. I had a mass the size of a football on an ovary (I looked nine months pregnant) and another large one in my colon. The two tumors pushed together and completely blocked my colon in late March which led to a dangerous (since I had just had my chemo infusion) emergency surgery and now I have a permanent ileostomy and neuropathy in my hands and feet. After recovery, in July, I had another small surgery for an abscess where they inserted a seton which will have to be removed in the next couple months. And finally, last week, I began chemo again.
Strangely, now that my treatment is starting again, life seems less surreal and I feel like I have a little more control over my time and my mind (though that’s probably a delusion), which is evident in the fact that I am doing something I usually do, ModPo. The ModPo Symposium Mode began this week. ModPo is the Modern and Contemporary American Poetry course offered by the University of Pennsylvania through Coursera.org. But it’s so much more than that. There are daily zoom discussions with different TAs as “office hours”, and a weekly live webcast. There are discussion forums and study groups and as many ways to explore the poems as people can think of.
This first week introduces Emily Dickinson and Walt Whitman. As usual, I am surprised to see the same poems in new ways. This is my sixth ModPo and I’m so glad I can participate. I highly recommend giving it a try. It’s completely free and you can participate as much or as little as you want.
New Poem
Yesterday’s Poetics prompt at dVerse inspired me, but yet again—as has been the norm for many months—I didn’t write or post a poem. But this morning, I rolled over and grabbed my journal and wrote to Dora’s prompt before getting out of bed.
To Sip the Life-giving Water
and I’m reminded of the crow
that comes upon a bottle
containing
water she cannot reach
so she collects
pebbles
rocks
stones
and drops them
one
by
one
through the open mouth
the collection displaces
the water rises
the crow flies
diving at a hint of a glint
the look of the rock
doesn’t matter
only that it will fit
will pass through
will fall into place
how many times will she return?
how many times will she repeat
just one more stone?
the crow must be so thirsty
You are truly an inspiration to us all! Such a beautiful cadence and flow in this poem, Maria! ❤️❤️
Thank you so much.
I love the flow of your poem it really rolled just like those pebbles… had not heard that you struggle with cancer and I wish it will go well for you. I actually participated a bit in ModPo a few years ago, and it inspired me for some poetry writing.
Yeah, this writer’s life update is the first time I talked about cancer. I’ve only published two posts since my diagnosis and wasn’t ready to talk about it until now. Thank you for your well-wishes. So glad you enjoyed the poem.
Maria, I love how your crow makes patience and hope feel so real: when we truly thirst for life, adding “just one more stone” can be an act of faith.
Much love,
David
Thank you.
Would you mind if I share this piece of yours as a ‘reblog’ at some point in the future?
~David
Not at all. Please do. Thank you. And thank you for asking.
Thank you. And thank you for sharing your story.
Much love,
David
I’m so sorry to read about your battle with cancer, Maria, and will be thinking of you as you undergo chemotherapy. I felt for that crow collecting pebbles, tocks and stones to quench its thirst, and the evocative internal rhyme ‘hint of a glint’ leaped out at me, which sounds just like it looks.
I’m so glad to read that my poem evoked empathy. What a wonderful complement.
You’re most welcome, Maria.
A great poem to remind us that it take persistence and ingenuity to survive!
Sorry to hear about your extreme health issues. I wish you well in your ongoing treatments.
I’m really glad you liked it. And thank you for your well-wishes.
You are very welcome.
Ah, yes, love the image you offer. And a hug for the journey as you continue. ❤️
Thank you. My return date for chemo inspired me to get my floating studio in the water while I could. It was exhausting (can’t believe I used to do that every sunny day) but the pictures made it worth it. I’ll take all the hugs I can get. 😊
Hello Maria
What a fighter you are! I know that when we face challenges that require both are mind and body ( and creative spirit ) the well empties pretty fast and refilling that puppy is hard. I’m glad your voice here is back and I look forward to hearing more of it.
Anita
Thank you. Getting back to sharing my writing has been a struggle. My big goal is a fun Writober this year. I hope you’ll join me.
I’ve been looking forward to it Maria!
Yay!
Happy to hear you are rolling over up and ready to write again
Much love
Thank you.
Incredible, Maria, smooth as a polished stone with that little spark, “a hint of a glint” if you will, a hope, a persistence, and will for that “life-giving water.” It makes it all the more precious, this life, that spirit that continues to fly like the crow in your wonderful poem. A testament of stone.
And what a trying journey you have been on, Maria. I’m so glad that you’ve arrived at a place where, though chemo treatment continues (I pray with good results), you can rest and create and feel a sense of normalcy return. It’s good to have you back. 🌹🤗
Thank you so much.