A Poem To Capture a Conversation

Back and Forth

By Susan L. Lipson, October 2015

You toss a ball to me                                   

Stiffly

And I catch it, flashing a smile at you

That you don’t, or can’t, return.

I toss it back

Casually

And you let it drop and roll, sighing,

Because you didn't like my throw.

"C'mon," I encourage you, "throw it back,"

And I pick it up and hurl it at you

Sharply,

Noticing you wince at its impact.

You whip the ball at me now,

And I leap to grab it

But miss,

And you sigh with exasperation

That I just didn’t get it—

That I just don’t get you.

A See-Saw of Words Becomes a Circular Poem

     "The more ____, the less _____," offers a playful, thoughtful see-saw of words on which to balance contradictory concepts. I played with those concepts today, after posting another of my "freeze frame" moment photos on Instagram. A friend recently commented that she enjoys the way I observe the world through photos. I replied that my new photography hobby helps me slow down to notice things, and to dedicate a few sacred moments to conjuring thought-provoking captions. From this conversation, built upon the verbal see-saw, this poem evolved:

Circular Treadmill

By Susan L. Lipson

The more we rush,

The less we observe,

The more we feel unfulfilled,

The less we strive,

The more we stagnate,

The less we grow,

The more we disconnect,

The less we feel we matter,

The more we need to matter,

The less time we seem to have to make our marks,

The more we rush,
The less we observe…

Writing as a Sacred Mission

          The upcoming publication (Sept. 22, 2015) of my story "Connections," in the new Chicken Soup for the Soul edition, Dreams and Premonitions, exemplifies how my writing often becomes a sacred mission, more than just a desire to share my words. My true story about the supernatural events surrounding the death of a dear friend and mentor is one I have told and retold orally for many years, whenever the topics of life after death, psychic experiences, or how to treat the comatose happens to arise in a conversation. Those who have listened to my remarkable, life-changing--and life-affirming--recollection say that they have "chills," or that I've changed their perspective in a significant way. Many have asked me to repeat the story to another friend who "needs to hear it."

          That perceived "need" to hear this story indicated to me that I needed to write it in prose, to share it with a bigger audience. Thus, my audience could grow--in both senses of "grow." 

          So I wrote my short memoir based on an even shorter version that appeared in a tribute booklet at my deceased friend Connie's memorial service. I had no idea where to submit it, though. The story stayed in my files for years until I saw an ad in a writer's publication for memoirs that would fit into a new Chicken Soup for the Soul book about dreams and premonitions. I submitted the story, having always felt driven to get it published, to share what I consider a gift from God--a divine connection between souls across planes of existence. I've felt that I, too, have a need for this story, a need to share it and pay forward the illumination like an Olympic torch passed to others who can share the light. I know that sounds overdramatic to you right now, but try to say that after you've read "Connections," and all of the other remarkable stories that will accompany mine in Dreams and Premonitions. PREORDER YOUR COPY TODAY! (PLEASE. Sorry for the missionary zeal!)