This heavy snow-carpet covers our world, swathing us in white and giving permission to shelter-in.
Winter music feeds hungry places and I sit here, soaking in quiet as snow absorbs the roar of seasonal noise. It cushions, insulates and becomes a falling poem.
The heart turns inside and the sehnsucht awakens. Beauty does this…stirs hunger…awakens the need for more.
So I fly. Through cable portal, through air and time. And, seeking beauty, I land here.
It is the home of Maureen Doallas’s blog, Writing Without Paper.
I often visit here when looking to go beyond myself. She never disappoints. This art-loving, entrepreneurial poet has known success and loss, joy and grief. She shares these experiences eloquently–always giving the right words.
And they are a gift, received with gratitude.
When she told me a bit about herself, Maureen said, “Words matter a great deal to me.”
It shows in her work. Her poetry is arresting.
“I had not written much poetry for many years,” she says, “as I noted in a post a short while ago. I returned to writing poetry when my brother became ill with cancer. The poetry was my most effective way of understanding what my brother, my family, and I were experiencing while my brother was ill and at the time of his death this past May and thereafter…”
Maureen goes on to say, “I think one can ‘get’ me best by sampling my writing, especially my poetry…”
I agree. I’d like to feature a couple of her pieces here, just to give you a taste, but a visit to her blog will satisfy your need for beauty.
Friends, Maureen Doallas: