Your words always speak to my heart ❤️, John! We are all so alone n this world; “we are all just walking each other home.” Your words walk home with me, John. I remember as a child ,walking home from school, holding my homework books. It was always so much better when someone walked with me. Your words do that for me. They hold my heart and walk along side me and I listen to your deepest thoughts. 💙❤️
How fortunate I am to have found your beautiful, heartfelt poems, John. I have read them all and feel remiss for not having answered every one. You deserve to know how much they mean to people. Your very soul is on display. It shelters us in ways you may not even realize. You would be greatly missed if you ever stopped. 🌹
I don’t really write for the attention. (Which is good because I’m not really getting much 😆) I write for myself because I enjoy the dance of finding words to fit feelings and paint pictures of experiences. Do I hold my breath and wait for the views and likes to roll in? Yes, to some degree. But the numbers don’t make or break me or any piece that I’ve written. My favorite piece is the one that I feel speaks me into the world most eloquently…not the one with the highest views. 🙂
John, I have been carrying your words around in my head all day. I began writing only three months ago, when I finally realized I had a voice and the words just started tumbling out like a burst dam of things I desperately need to say. I write for my own fulfillment. Therapy. Occasionally I will leave a small offering of my poetry in the comments section of a relevant FB post, or even more rarely on my FB page for all 21 of my FB friends to scratch their heads over and wonder if I've finally gone completely around the bend. But writing is not my profession. I will never publish because then it would become work.
Having said that, I can imagine your frustration with seeing little response to your posts. Often I don't respond because I can't think of anything intelligent to say, or it takes three days for me to formulate a response. I don't do emojis, and don't want to sound like a sycophant. And often your posts here and on FB touch me so deeply that I don't feel safe writing my feelings for the world to see. Be assured that you are one of my very favorite writers, and I look forward to each new post.
So perhaps the moon is not ignoring the tree, but simply does not quite know what to say.
John, I appreciate your honesty and rawness, it opens the door for others to do the same. You’re so right, we need more storytellers, and your stories always touch something inside me. Thank you for being that beacon of light that says, walk along side me, we can do this together. Our paths will cross again. Until then, I’m sending you love.
Your work always amazes me. You asked a number of questions in the the poem above.
I am also a poet. My words come to me in complete stanzas. I am usually asking the Beloved for another poem. I write because I must. I use to sing and write songs but now the guitar is laid aside and the poetry……comes…..on and in its time of awakening.
I share on fb and many people like and “ get” what I am trying to express. Many do not……lol..
I do not worry if “ others “ do not respond because maybe one day they will. It is because I told the “Lord” when I was just 8 yrs that I would sing for Him anytime anyone asked and now that same promise is about my poetry. .
I write because it is my heart ……to share….
But I never worry if nobody answers…….i write because He asked me to……I am now 70 yrs …..I keep writing…not as much as before…..lol……
Keep writing dearest of the Beloved because you must…..it is your heart. Do not worry if nobody answers , some folks are just quiet people…….
So glad you shared. I do so appreciate your commitment……..you will be blessed as you bless others…
I've thought a lot about audience lately. Not as a writer, but as a human.
What is this desire to have someone bear witness? to share our interiority? to try to be known? Why is writing (and any communication, really) so ultimately lonely?
Partly it's because in communicating, we may be ignored or silenced; we may be misunderstood. Or, we may succeed in connecting, but the thread is a gossamer one.
It seems to me that this desire for connection seems to be a way to cope with existential anxiety, the ultimate truth that we are alone in the vast, meaningless universe.
Walt Whitman says it better than I do:
A Noiseless Patient Spider
A noiseless patient spider,
I mark’d where on a little promontory it stood isolated,
Mark’d how to explore the vacant vast surrounding,
It launch’d forth filament, filament, filament, out of itself,
John, I truly appreciate your words and thoughts. I understand that feeling lonely can be part of the experience. When I write, I feel God’s presence and know my daughter in heaven is listening — they are the only two I care to connect with at such times, as I reveal what resides in my soul and heart. I cherish quiet moments with God and Alex. Alex was an extraordinary writer, and she now helps me from beyond. I sit in silence to connect with her spirit. She left this world in 2018 at just 20 years old—a tender, sweet soul. I miss her deeply, and my heart aches every day. She encourages me to write and share our special story.❤️🙏
I love how you carefully craft the perfect words together to express your feelings John! Sorry for not commenting before now. Please know I value and appreciate your writing and the feelings it evokes in me!
Your words always speak to my heart ❤️, John! We are all so alone n this world; “we are all just walking each other home.” Your words walk home with me, John. I remember as a child ,walking home from school, holding my homework books. It was always so much better when someone walked with me. Your words do that for me. They hold my heart and walk along side me and I listen to your deepest thoughts. 💙❤️
How fortunate I am to have found your beautiful, heartfelt poems, John. I have read them all and feel remiss for not having answered every one. You deserve to know how much they mean to people. Your very soul is on display. It shelters us in ways you may not even realize. You would be greatly missed if you ever stopped. 🌹
I don’t really write for the attention. (Which is good because I’m not really getting much 😆) I write for myself because I enjoy the dance of finding words to fit feelings and paint pictures of experiences. Do I hold my breath and wait for the views and likes to roll in? Yes, to some degree. But the numbers don’t make or break me or any piece that I’ve written. My favorite piece is the one that I feel speaks me into the world most eloquently…not the one with the highest views. 🙂
John, I have been carrying your words around in my head all day. I began writing only three months ago, when I finally realized I had a voice and the words just started tumbling out like a burst dam of things I desperately need to say. I write for my own fulfillment. Therapy. Occasionally I will leave a small offering of my poetry in the comments section of a relevant FB post, or even more rarely on my FB page for all 21 of my FB friends to scratch their heads over and wonder if I've finally gone completely around the bend. But writing is not my profession. I will never publish because then it would become work.
Having said that, I can imagine your frustration with seeing little response to your posts. Often I don't respond because I can't think of anything intelligent to say, or it takes three days for me to formulate a response. I don't do emojis, and don't want to sound like a sycophant. And often your posts here and on FB touch me so deeply that I don't feel safe writing my feelings for the world to see. Be assured that you are one of my very favorite writers, and I look forward to each new post.
So perhaps the moon is not ignoring the tree, but simply does not quite know what to say.
John, I appreciate your honesty and rawness, it opens the door for others to do the same. You’re so right, we need more storytellers, and your stories always touch something inside me. Thank you for being that beacon of light that says, walk along side me, we can do this together. Our paths will cross again. Until then, I’m sending you love.
Your work always amazes me. You asked a number of questions in the the poem above.
I am also a poet. My words come to me in complete stanzas. I am usually asking the Beloved for another poem. I write because I must. I use to sing and write songs but now the guitar is laid aside and the poetry……comes…..on and in its time of awakening.
I share on fb and many people like and “ get” what I am trying to express. Many do not……lol..
I do not worry if “ others “ do not respond because maybe one day they will. It is because I told the “Lord” when I was just 8 yrs that I would sing for Him anytime anyone asked and now that same promise is about my poetry. .
I write because it is my heart ……to share….
But I never worry if nobody answers…….i write because He asked me to……I am now 70 yrs …..I keep writing…not as much as before…..lol……
Keep writing dearest of the Beloved because you must…..it is your heart. Do not worry if nobody answers , some folks are just quiet people…….
So glad you shared. I do so appreciate your commitment……..you will be blessed as you bless others…
Hugs from the North Country,
Laura Robin Oickle
I've thought a lot about audience lately. Not as a writer, but as a human.
What is this desire to have someone bear witness? to share our interiority? to try to be known? Why is writing (and any communication, really) so ultimately lonely?
Partly it's because in communicating, we may be ignored or silenced; we may be misunderstood. Or, we may succeed in connecting, but the thread is a gossamer one.
It seems to me that this desire for connection seems to be a way to cope with existential anxiety, the ultimate truth that we are alone in the vast, meaningless universe.
Walt Whitman says it better than I do:
A Noiseless Patient Spider
A noiseless patient spider,
I mark’d where on a little promontory it stood isolated,
Mark’d how to explore the vacant vast surrounding,
It launch’d forth filament, filament, filament, out of itself,
Ever unreeling them, ever tirelessly speeding them.
And you O my soul where you stand,
Surrounded, detached, in measureless oceans of space,
Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing, seeking the spheres to connect them,
Till the bridge you will need be form’d, till the ductile anchor hold,
Till the gossamer thread you fling catch somewhere, O my soul.
I read everything that you write...and I receive great joy and love! ❤️
John, I truly appreciate your words and thoughts. I understand that feeling lonely can be part of the experience. When I write, I feel God’s presence and know my daughter in heaven is listening — they are the only two I care to connect with at such times, as I reveal what resides in my soul and heart. I cherish quiet moments with God and Alex. Alex was an extraordinary writer, and she now helps me from beyond. I sit in silence to connect with her spirit. She left this world in 2018 at just 20 years old—a tender, sweet soul. I miss her deeply, and my heart aches every day. She encourages me to write and share our special story.❤️🙏
I love your writing … I have saved some and read on very hard days for solace. Thank you
I love how you carefully craft the perfect words together to express your feelings John! Sorry for not commenting before now. Please know I value and appreciate your writing and the feelings it evokes in me!
Take a look at John Roedel’s “THE TREE WHO LOVED THE MOON, A Bedtime Story for Writers.”
This helps me so!
I love you work! It cheers me and cries with me! You always touch my heart! Thank you so dearly!