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About This Author
My name is Joy, and I love to write.
Why poetry, here? Because poetry uplifts its writer, and if she is lucky enough, her readers, too. Around us, so many objects abound to write about. Once a poet starts with a smallest, most trivial object, he shall discover that his pen will spill out what is most delicate or most majestic hidden inside him. Since the classics sometimes dealt with lofty subjects with a lofty language, a person with poetry in his soul may incline to emulate that. That is understandable. Poetry does that to a person: it enlarges the soul and gives it wings. Yet, to really soar, a poet needs to take off from the ground.
 
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Everyday Canvas
"Failure is unimportant. It takes courage to make a fool of yourself."
CHARLIE CHAPLIN
Sometimes it takes darkness and the sweet
confinement of your aloneness
to learn
anything or anyone
that does not bring you alive
is too small for you.
David Whyte
This is my supplementary blog in which I will post entries written for prompts.
January 30, 2015 at 6:12pm January 30, 2015 at 6:12pm
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Prompt: I've asked you before about being stranded on a desert island, but what I've not asked you...
Would you thrive in solitude or would you focus all your time on returning civilization?
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I never really lived alone, except for several times in my life, two-three months at a time. I find I can thrive in solitude perfectly in some ways and terribly in other ways. If we are talking about absolute solitude, as Henry David Thoreau did, I would be miserable because as much as l love nature and animals, I love people, too, as I consider people to be part of nature, also. If we are talking about me occupying a residence alone in a city or a town and seeing other people when I want, that kind of solitude is most welcome.
As to living with other people in the same house, I loved living in a family with my children and husband, dogs and cats, and with their quirks, plus my own quirks. I now live with my husband, seeing whoever we wish to see, and occasionally our sons and daughter-in-law. In such a case, I find solitude in writing, reading, enjoying works of art, photography, music, and such. Then I find companionship in other people because I love them, even the people I don’t know, those who pass me by on the street or those strangers with whom I exchange a polite word or two. Besides, I believe one can be with people while holding on to his or her solitude, as well
Still, for argument’s sake, let’s say I am stranded on a desert island. Yes, I would do all I can to return to civilization, for the sake of people first, then books, computers, internet, my creature comforts…and so on and so forth. There is a certain delight for me in watching people and adapting to their special behaviors and needs, and in addition, figuring out how I can manage my life best, which also demands a partial solitude that my personality requires.
Yet, where solitude is concerned, I love this poem by William Wordsworth. By the way, the poems of this eighteenth century poet usually reflect his views of Man, Nature, and Society, and for the most part of his life, except for the times he went alone on walking tours and trekking, William Wordsworth related to other people quite well. 
I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the Milky Way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
---Now, whose heart wouldn't love to dance with the daffodils?
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