Dear Reader,

How are you doing? It's mid-August; amazing!

I'm spending a few days in Vermont with Eric and the kids before the kids head off to their fall adventures (college and a new job); I find myself already looking back with nostalgia to earlier in the summer, looking ahead to the fall, and, at the same time, trying to be fully present, right here, right now.

Today, I thought I'd share one of my poems, "August" (recently published in The Sun). The poem is about looking back and looking forward, about loss and celebration, about how our individual experiences and our collective, global, ecological experiences all overlap.

And it's about the wonder of being alive at all—in a body here on this earth that is our only home—

I hope you enjoy the poem (below). I also have a writing prompt for you below the poem; the multiplicity of the world can feed our writing.

I can't help adding a note about our political situation in the US— this, too, reminds me of how many things can be happening at once and how quickly things can change.

May we be here right now, just as it is, and may we be open and present for all that was and that might be. :)

As always, let me know how you're doing.

With love,
Nadia

August​
by Nadia Colburn from I Say the Sky
​

For six years, we took no precaution
and my body made no third baby—
nor did we plot to create
another life, content
to let nature do what it would do,

which was, this morning,
bring bright red blood
in the toilet,
so bright and sudden
in its burst it seemed almost
alive, and then a little plop.

Child we will never have. End
of something.

In the course I’m taking, we are taught
happiness is found
in the deep I, in the consciousness
of consciousness.
But I resist.

I want blood and bone,
our son in my arms,
our daughter’s laugh,
her wonder and unapologetic tears.

I want relationship,
the grass that grows no place
but the earth,
this earth, the stubbly
green beneath our bare
feet when we ran on the lawn,
the rich smell of dirt, the pebbles,
the grit, those summers when
we were all so much younger
and didn’t know–such gifts!

As now, our children almost-grown,
we hardly know this is as close
to heaven as we can come—

So close to so many changes, the ice
even now melting at the poles,

and see: these tiny red tomatoes at the end of the plants,
little globes of sun, offerings
we pick and eat whole.

(Published—with slight edits—in the August 2024 issue of The Sun— click here to hear me read the poem aloud!)

Writing Prompt:

Take a moment that might not normally seem "poetic" and put it into a poem (or a piece of prose), connecting it to something very different. In your piece, include something very small and something very large.

Upcoming Events

​Finding Joy Through Writing Poetry: Retreat at Omega Institute with Nadia Colburn and Holly Wren Spaulding​

An in-depth immersion into writing through sorrow and joy; come be upheld by the transformative power of the creative imagination. We'll be inspired by poetry, but you can write in any genre. Write, meditate, and do gentle yoga in the beautiful setting of the Omega campus, and be surrounded by a small, intimate, supportive community.

In-Person, Sept. 29th to Oct. 4th, 2024

Learn more and register here.

​The Poetry of Attention: Online Fall Course with Nadia Colburn​

Online asynchronous 10-week class with ongoing access and live coaching and practice sessions
The course unfolds over ten weeks this Fall 2024!

• We'll study closely the work of six poets: Mary Oliver, Rumi, Emily Dickinson, Walt Whitman, Lucille Clifton, and Ross Gay.
• Learn from these inspiring poets, write your own poetry, and explore the ways in which the practice of poetry is informed by and itself informs every area of your life.
• Explore poetry's role in relation to your world of emotion and memory, your physical and sensory experiences, your spiritual life, your relationships, your social world, and the earth itself.
• Write a strong body of original work.

Join the waitlist to be notified when enrollment opens here.