Finding Natural Meter

Tonight I made a pasta sauce from farm fresh vegetables: roma tomatoes, grape tomatoes, onions, garlic, Swiss chard, rosemary, oregano, basil, red bell pepper, orange bell pepper, and carrots. Of course there was a bit of salt, pepper, sugar, butter, and olive oil. A feast for the senses, without a doubt. Boiling the tomatoes before icing them to peel off their skins, I delighted in the process as I ruminated on the labor: who has time to cook like this every day?

There is a parallel to crafting poetry. Many say English has a natural meter that is more often than not iambic, best digested in pentameter, and most pleasing with some level of rhyme or repetition. These qualities abound in English poetry, just as organic vegetables abound in the products I buy. I, however, do not find them simple or quick to work with raw -- at least not in my youth as a gardener, cook, or poet.

Earlier this evening, I received my first ever congratulatory call about one of my poems. "Ode to Terrible Days," a short poem I wrote in Castine this May, was chosen for the Mad Poets Review Contest winners list. I was so excited about the news, I immediately turned to the lucky poem to read it for clues: out of all the poems I submit to similar contests, what made this little ode so lucky? There is a consistent rhythm, a playful rhyme, a balance of furniture in its cute little room. It's not much like my other poems, nor do I feel like I can take full credit for it. It just happened one day in a notebook while I curled in a hammock.

The pasta sauce is in freezer bags, waiting to be enjoyed at a later date. Smelling it with anticipation, my partner suggested I recreate it for a large group of people we'll be having over in a few weeks. I blushed, confessing that I wasn't sure I'd be able to recreate it. The process had been so organic, so free, I hadn't thought much about what I was doing. Pieces of past experiences came together, informing my hands without much thought. I think my ode is like that, too. Maybe someday I'll learn to take notes to recreate my efforts-- or maybe I'll continue to move organically through these processes, learning movements and meters, if not exact steps.