A reading

A few weeks back, I had the distinct pleasure of seeing a group of people that I knew from all walks of life read before an audience. There were five people in total: one is the head of the Writer's Federation I'm a member of, one was my professor, one a customer, one a co-worker, and one is my father.

Seeing these five people, all of whom have affected my life in different ways, work together so flawlessly was inspiring. The five of them had been meeting together to discuss poetry and draw inspiration from one another. What came from these meetings was beautiful poetry--some of which was read that evening.

Cafe Aberdeen was filled with people, some of whom knew these poets, as well. It was very well-attended, and the cafe workers actually had to bring in more chairs to accommodate people. While the poets read, the audience, rapt and attentive, said nothing. The magic of poetry hung heavy in the air like snow on a branch. No one dared speak out of turn to break the spell.

It was an inspiring night, and I'm sure I wasn't the only one who left with an unfinished poem in my head. In fact, I saw a woman scrawling notes down during the reading, probably for later use.

In honor of that evening, I wrote this one unfinished and unedited poem. It's aptly named, I think; I call it "At a Poetry Reading".

Perched
like a cat watching a bird
on the edge of the stool
you listen and watch
attentively
held in balance
suspended
absorbing every word
and never losing focus
or wavering
from the person who reads before you.

When the poems are done
you do not clap
but continue staring ahead
in the pose you assume
that looks so uncomfortable to me
but you hold so effortlessly
it must be a second nature
to you.

Do you refrain from clapping
because you didn't enjoy it?
Or rather
were the words so powerful
they shocked you into stillness
and led you to believe
that no sound
of appreciation
could really do them justice?

Do you
like so many others in this room
have your own way
of keeping the silent magic?

This winter has been a bit strange for me, and finding inspiration for writing has been scarce. This reading was like a shining beacon in the (literal) storm that has been the past two months.  When I say literal storm, I mean that my house is currently sitting under a good six feet of snow!

I'm not kidding!

 I have a week of vacation next week, so there may be more blog posts forthcoming. In the meantime, I'm still regularly updating thisindiegameblog, as winter is a perfect time of year to sit inside and play games!