Mindful Poetry Gathering - January 21st, 2025

Where there was something and suddenly isn’t,

an absence shouts, celebrates, leaves a space.

I begin again with the smallest numbers.

—Naomi Shihab Nye, “Burning the Old Year”

In this gathering, we listened and contemplated the poem "Burning the Old Year" by Naomi Shihab Nye. The Hive’s Executive Director Chris La Rue opened our session with a visualization meditation and poetry-therapist Michelle Bee led our exploration of the poem.

PROMPT

First 7 minutes

1. Choose one word from the poem that feels like yours right now —

a. Use this word as a “jump off” point for your writing

2. I am releasing/burning….

3. I am celebrating…

4. I have space to welcome in…

Last 3 minutes:

read what you wrote, and write a response (After reading what I wrote, I noticed...)

Connect with Michelle

Connect with Chris

Michelle Bee

Chris La Rue

Swallowed

by Holly Brians Ragusa

After Burning the Old Year by Naomi Shihab Nye

I swallow the air in gulps, as if

there will never be another. Breath. And 

there won’t be, this day, this wind, this chill, 

this breath again. This air. These lungs. Me, 

in this knowledge and ignorance, will never 

commune with this air as this person 

ever again. The world spins and keeps spinning— 

An axis of inertia out of control and 

our humanity is gasping 

for air and grasping at the smoke 

and ash of our burning 

and yet, here I sit, hands 

perched over my words forming, my soul tied 

to these words, to this moment, this breath,

knowing I may not know who I am 

in the next.