{"id":223307,"date":"2026-03-22T19:12:28","date_gmt":"2026-03-22T23:12:28","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/rachellerogers.com\/dev1\/?p=223307"},"modified":"2026-03-22T19:27:31","modified_gmt":"2026-03-22T23:27:31","slug":"the-poet-in-me","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/rachellerogers.com\/dev1\/the-poet-in-me\/","title":{"rendered":"The Poet In Me"},"content":{"rendered":"<div class=\"et_pb_section_0 et_pb_section et_section_regular et_block_section\">\n<div class=\"et_pb_row_0 et_pb_row et_block_row\">\n<div class=\"et_pb_column_0 et_pb_column et_pb_column_4_4 et-last-child et_block_column et_pb_css_mix_blend_mode_passthrough\">\n<div class=\"et_pb_text_0 et_pb_text et_pb_bg_layout_light et_pb_module et_block_module preset--group--divi-text--divi-font-header--default\"><div class=\"et_pb_text_inner\"><h1 style=\"text-align: center;\">Luminations<\/h1>\n<\/div><\/div>\n\n<div class=\"et_pb_text_1 et_pb_text et_pb_bg_layout_light et_pb_module et_block_module preset--group--divi-text--divi-font-header--default\"><div class=\"et_pb_text_inner\"><p style=\"text-align: center;\">a glimpse of my authentic life<\/p>\n<\/div><\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n<div class=\"et_pb_section_1 et_pb_section et_pb_fullwidth_section et_section_regular et_block_section\">\n<div class=\"et_pb_fullwidth_menu_0 et_pb_fullwidth_menu et_pb_fullwidth_menu--without-logo et_pb_fullwidth_menu--style-left_aligned et_dropdown_animation_fade et_pb_bg_layout_dark et_pb_text_align_right et_pb_text_align_right-tablet et_pb_text_align_right-phone et_pb_module\" id=\"menu_font_size\"><div class=\"et_pb_row\"><div class=\"et_pb_menu__wrap\"><div class=\"et_pb_menu__menu\"><nav class=\"et-menu-nav fullwidth-menu-nav\"><ul id=\"menu-rr-divi\" class=\"et-menu fullwidth-menu nav downwards\"><li id=\"menu-item-2319\" class=\"et_pb_menu_page_id-home menu-item menu-item-type-post_type menu-item-object-page menu-item-home menu-item-2319\"><a 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srcset=\"https:\/\/rachellerogers.com\/dev1\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/03\/penny-wilton-2NzQ9GvaoNE-unsplash-1280-web.jpg 1280w, https:\/\/rachellerogers.com\/dev1\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/03\/penny-wilton-2NzQ9GvaoNE-unsplash-1280-web-980x823.jpg 980w, https:\/\/rachellerogers.com\/dev1\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/03\/penny-wilton-2NzQ9GvaoNE-unsplash-1280-web-480x403.jpg 480w\" sizes=\"(min-width: 0px) and (max-width: 480px) 480px, (min-width: 481px) and (max-width: 980px) 980px, (min-width: 981px) 1280px, 100vw\" class=\"wp-image-223239\" \/><\/span><\/div>\n\n<div class=\"et_pb_text_2 et_pb_text et_pb_bg_layout_light et_pb_module et_flex_module preset--group--divi-text--divi-font-header--default\"><div class=\"et_pb_text_inner\"><p>Image by Penny Wilton<\/p>\n<\/div><\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n<div class=\"et_pb_column_2 et_pb_column et-last-child et_flex_column et_pb_css_mix_blend_mode_passthrough et_flex_column_2_5 et_flex_column_2_5_tablet et_flex_column_24_24_phone\">\n<div class=\"et_pb_post_title_0 et_pb_post_title et_pb_bg_layout_light et_pb_module et_flex_module\"><div class=\"et_pb_title_container\"><h1 class=\"entry-title\">The Poet In Me<\/h1><p class=\"et_pb_title_meta_container\">by <span class=\"author vcard\"><a href=\"https:\/\/rachellerogers.com\/dev1\/author\/wprr\/\" title=\"Posts by Rachelle Rogers\">Rachelle Rogers<\/a><\/span> | <span class=\"published\">Mar 22, 2026<\/span><\/p><\/div><\/div>\n\n<div class=\"et_pb_text_3 et_pb_text et_pb_bg_layout_light et_pb_module et_flex_module preset--group--divi-text--divi-font-header--default\"><div class=\"et_pb_text_inner\"><p>Poetry<br \/>Spring Equinox<br \/>Bethoven's Sixth<\/p>\n<\/div><\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n<div class=\"et_pb_row_2 et_pb_row et_flex_row\">\n<div class=\"et_pb_column_3 et_pb_column et-last-child et_flex_column et_pb_css_mix_blend_mode_passthrough et_flex_column_24_24 et_flex_column_24_24_tablet et_flex_column_24_24_phone\">\n<div class=\"et_pb_divider_0 et_pb_divider et_pb_space et_pb_divider_position_top et_pb_module\"><div class=\"et_pb_divider_internal\"><\/div><\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n<div class=\"et_pb_row_3 et_pb_row et_flex_row\">\n<div class=\"et_pb_column_4 et_pb_column et-last-child et_flex_column et_pb_css_mix_blend_mode_passthrough et_flex_column_24_24 et_flex_column_24_24_tablet et_flex_column_24_24_phone\">\n<div class=\"et_pb_text_4 et_pb_text et_pb_bg_layout_light et_pb_module et_flex_module preset--group--divi-text--divi-font-header--default\"><div class=\"et_pb_text_inner\"><p>With everything swirling around in the world, and lately in my life, I began to feel that I\u2019d lost the poet in me, the lover of Beauty and Truth. My last two posts contained too much complaining, too much exposition on the ongoing dramas of day to day challenges. They were, indeed, a glimpse of my authentic life, but not necessarily the best of my authentic Self. I hadn\u2019t been able to find that me in the last couple of months. My body has been out of balance, stressed, and fatigued. My brain has felt muddy and unfocused, like foreign cottony creatures swirling around inside my head. When the furnace in my apartment broke, an array of maintenance people, technicians, and vendors, without appointments, assaulted the peace and privacy of my quiet life for weeks. Several times I had to leave my Zoom private qigong practice group to accommodate them. I had to reschedule Sherry, my wonderful cleaner, twice. Everything seemed out of flow, staccato when you\u2019re used to legato.<\/p>\n<p>It's taken me a while, but I\u2019m finally lifting out of the funk. I awoke on Friday, March 19, the first day of Spring, with a lightened heart. There was bright sunshine and the temperature was predicted to rise to the high 80\u2019s in Longmont CO. The humidity, however, would be about 7%, but even that couldn\u2019t affect my mood. I did qigong practice with my group, meditated for a while, then prepared to make breakfast and celebrate the spring equinox the way I have done for decades \u2014 listening, rather loudly, to Beethoven\u2019s Sixth Symphony, The Pastorale. This year\u2019s version was Sir Georg Solti and The Chicago Symphony Orchestra. It cheered me to no end. I hadn\u2019t felt that much pure joy in what seemed like forever.<\/p>\n<p>This was the key: to be able to summon Beauty and Truth, even as my little life had challenges, and the big world was bent on seducing humanity into chaos and fear. The key was to summon the power of who I truly am, to let my arms fly open as I air-conduct the orchestra in the middle of my living room, humming the familiar music with gravelly throat and not enough notes to my voice because to be silent in that moment is impossible. The key is to know that doing a happy dance all by myself adds upliftment directly into the unified field, where it <em>does<\/em> make a difference. Yes, falling into mud puddles is going to happen, but the key is choosing to get up, clean off, and follow my heart.<\/p>\n<p>I\u2019ve been doing some updates on my writing website. After seventeen years, I removed the France photography galleries I had put up after my trip to Paris and Provence in 2009. I also designed new blog and post pages, and I redesigned the Poetry page. I hadn\u2019t looked at any of my poetry in a long while, and it was surreal for me. As some of you might know, I haven\u2019t been able to write poetry since my memoir, <a href=\"https:\/\/rachellerogers.com\/dev1\/books\/\"><em>Rare Atmosphere: An Extraordinary Inter-dimensional Affair of the Heart<\/em> <\/a>was published in 2013. I\u2019ve tried, but I haven\u2019t gotten very far. It\u2019s something, however, that I feel is calling me back.<\/p>\n<\/div><\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n<div class=\"et_pb_row_4 et_pb_row et_flex_row\">\n<div class=\"et_pb_column_5 et_pb_column et_flex_column et_pb_css_mix_blend_mode_passthrough et_flex_column_16_24 et_flex_column_16_24_tablet et_flex_column_24_24_phone\">\n<div class=\"et_pb_text_5 et_pb_text et_pb_bg_layout_light et_pb_module et_flex_module preset--group--divi-text--divi-font-header--default\"><div class=\"et_pb_text_inner\"><p>When I reacquainted myself with the published poetry on the site, or actually when I re-read any of my writing \u2014 short stories, novel, memoir \u2014 I am astonished by the fact that I had written it. I didn\u2019t start writing seriously until my forties. It was a miracle to me that any of my work got published at all, some in fine journals. That me doesn\u2019t seem quite real in my now. My writing is so different now. My life is so different now. <em>I<\/em> am so different now. I only write creatively here on the blog, with the main intention being authenticity, and without investment as to what others think of it. It is always, however, wonderful when someone can relate to what I share, when a connection is made. But the sole intention is being true to myself. There\u2019s a great release that comes with this kind of writing, without any interest in getting published or finding an agent or winning a competition or seeking positive feedback from writerfriends. For me, it\u2019s freeing. As I have written before<em>, <\/em>I feel authenticity is as important a gift as love.\u00a0<\/p>\n<p>There are so many memories, both sweet and sad, in the lyrical verses that had somehow found their way upon my page. I re-live them now more as an observer than one dragged into the emotional mire. There are still tears. I am infinitely grateful for the richness of a life that continually calls up the best in me. In a way, it is my mission to summon the inner strength and courage to both meet its challenges <em>and<\/em> embrace its joys.<\/p>\n<p>Here are a few of my poems. Maybe sharing them will make my Muses happy. You can read more on the <a href=\"https:\/\/rachellerogers.com\/dev1\/poetry-3\/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Poetry<\/a> page.<\/p>\n<\/div><\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n<div class=\"et_pb_column_6 et_pb_column et-last-child et_flex_column et_pb_css_mix_blend_mode_passthrough et_flex_column_8_24 et_flex_column_8_24_tablet et_flex_column_24_24_phone\">\n<div class=\"et_pb_image_1 et_pb_image et_animated et_pb_module et_flex_module\"><span class=\"et_pb_image_wrap\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"https:\/\/rachellerogers.com\/dev1\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/03\/Bleeding-Heart-Vine-Naples-FL-cropped-web-copy.jpg\" title=\"IMG_0189 copy\" width=\"755\" height=\"1000\" srcset=\"https:\/\/rachellerogers.com\/dev1\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/03\/Bleeding-Heart-Vine-Naples-FL-cropped-web-copy.jpg 755w, https:\/\/rachellerogers.com\/dev1\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/03\/Bleeding-Heart-Vine-Naples-FL-cropped-web-copy-480x636.jpg 480w\" sizes=\"(min-width: 0px) and (max-width: 480px) 480px, (min-width: 481px) 755px, 100vw\" class=\"wp-image-223269\" \/><\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n<div class=\"et_pb_row_5 et_pb_row et_flex_row\">\n<div class=\"et_pb_column_7 et_pb_column et-last-child et_flex_column et_pb_css_mix_blend_mode_passthrough et_flex_column_24_24 et_flex_column_24_24_tablet et_flex_column_24_24_phone\">\n<div class=\"et_pb_text_6 et_pb_text et_pb_bg_layout_light et_pb_module et_flex_module preset--group--divi-text--divi-font-header--default\"><div class=\"et_pb_text_inner\"><h5>Slipping Through<\/h5>\n<p>I want the way the sun,<br \/>just before evening, threads<br \/>loose and trembling<br \/>through pines; want a nuance<br \/>slant and brilliant<br \/>as one pomegranate seed;<br \/>I want to celebrate the bend<br \/>of clouds, the purpose rooted<br \/>in a yellow moon.<\/p>\n<p>After dark, I wander to that place<br \/>where trees divide, the stars<br \/>a fiery swirl of long-gone light\u2014<br \/>I want that light.<br \/>And feeling wings unfold<br \/>an ecstasy no waxing sun can melt,<br \/>I lift into a blinding sky.<\/p>\n<p>\u00a0<\/p>\n<h5>Turning Time<\/h5>\n<p>I<br \/>From his bronzed skin<br \/>love sparks, lighting in the glass,<br \/>the throat, my better judgment.<br \/>His scent is innocence<br \/>and complication.<br \/>Rare knowing grips my bone.<br \/>Please not now;<br \/>not this demi-man, with eyes<br \/>like polished stone.<br \/>He watches me.<br \/>I stretch my chin, work my fingers<br \/>through his black curls, begin<br \/>to cut, the way he likes it, neat<br \/>and close. Don't be shy, he says.<br \/>I know you, I reply. He smiles.<br \/>We talk of falcon gods. I memorize<br \/>his face, brush lapis from his brow,<br \/>wonder if he'll taste of lotus fruit<br \/>and wild papyrus.<\/p>\n<p>II<br \/>Those eyes, our soft-kissed mouths,<br \/>that searching hand upon my thigh, a tangle<br \/>of jeans and legs and hair, the wild terrain<br \/>of intimate geography. Look at us, he says,<br \/>so close, so close, still holding back.<\/p>\n<p>III<br \/>With his touch, whole decades<br \/>fall, and I am new as he and naked<br \/>as the sun. My back against his chest,<br \/>we sway before the glass. His hands<br \/>dance over me. He makes me look.<br \/>He tells me zippers are so sexy, slides<br \/>mine down. In bed he whispers woman,<br \/>and I let him curl his mouth along<br \/>the inside of my thigh, my curve of hip,<br \/>that place behind my knee, anywhere<br \/>he wants. Later, loosing jasmine<br \/>from the bedroom sill, I marvel<br \/>at my own audacity.<\/p>\n<p>\u00a0<\/p>\n<h5>Sunday Through A Rainstick<\/h5>\n<p>I'm reading Seamus Heaney when the phone rings.<br \/>I'll tell you the bad news first, he says.<br \/>I move the receiver slightly from my ear, turn the page.<br \/>I've been eating my tongue, he says and laughs.<br \/>My lower bridge is at the dentist.<br \/>Heaney's words pull me into freer sound\u2014<br \/><em>What happens next is music<\/em><br \/><em>That you never would have known\u2026<\/em><br \/>and I can hear the rainstick sing. Its velvet rattle<br \/>rushes, swells between my father's words, washes<br \/>smooth the prickly forest of concern.<br \/>\u2026angina in my legs ssshhhhh more insurance<br \/>ssshhhhh arthritis acting up ssshhhhh<br \/>weekends lonely ssshhhhh cemetery yesterday<br \/>ssssssssssssssshhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026<br \/>So what can you do? he says.<br \/>Nothing, I say. Nothing.<\/p>\n<\/div><\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n<div class=\"et_pb_row_6 et_pb_row et_flex_row\">\n<div class=\"et_pb_column_8 et_pb_column et-last-child et_flex_column et_pb_css_mix_blend_mode_passthrough et_flex_column_24_24 et_flex_column_24_24_tablet et_flex_column_24_24_phone\">\n<div class=\"et_pb_post_nav_0 et_pb_posts_nav nav-single et_pb_module et_flex_module\"><span class=\"nav-previous\"><a href=\"https:\/\/rachellerogers.com\/dev1\/life-as-practice\/\" rel=\"prev\" class=\"\"><span class=\"meta-nav\">&larr; <\/span><span class=\"nav-label\">Life As Practice<\/span><\/a><\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n<div class=\"et_pb_row_7 et_pb_row et_block_row et_animated\">\n<div class=\"et_pb_column_9 et_pb_column et_pb_column_4_4 et-last-child et_block_column et_pb_css_mix_blend_mode_passthrough\">\n<div class=\"et_pb_signup_0 et_pb_signup et_pb_newsletter et_pb_subscribe et_pb_bg_layout_dark et_pb_module et_flex_module\"><div class=\"et_pb_newsletter_description\"><h2 class=\"et_pb_module_header\">KEEP UP WITH MY POSTS<\/h2><div class=\"et_pb_newsletter_description_content\"><p style=\"text-align: center;\"><span>Subscribers receive a free PDF of my published memoir <\/span><em><span><br \/><\/span><\/em><span><\/span><span style=\"color: #57006d;\"><em>Rare Atmosphere: An Extraordinary Inter-dimensional Affair of the Heart<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n<p>\n<\/div><\/div><div class=\"et_pb_newsletter_form\"><form method=\"post\" class=\"\"><div class=\"et_pb_newsletter_result et_pb_newsletter_error\"><\/div><div class=\"et_pb_newsletter_result et_pb_newsletter_success\"><h2>Thank you for subscribing. Your gift is on the way.<\/h2><\/div><div class=\"et_pb_newsletter_fields et_flex_module\" style=\"--flex-direction: row;\"><p class=\"et_pb_newsletter_field et_pb_contact_field_half et_pb_contact_field_half_tablet et_pb_contact_field_half_phone\"><label class=\"et_pb_contact_form_label\" for=\"et_pb_signup_firstname\" style=\"display: none;\">Name<\/label><input class=\"input\" id=\"et_pb_signup_firstname\" type=\"text\" placeholder=\"Name\" name=\"et_pb_signup_firstname\" \/><\/p><p class=\"et_pb_newsletter_field et_pb_contact_field_half et_pb_contact_field_half_tablet et_pb_contact_field_half_phone\"><label class=\"et_pb_contact_form_label\" for=\"et_pb_signup_email\" style=\"display: none;\">Email<\/label><input class=\"input\" id=\"et_pb_signup_email\" type=\"text\" placeholder=\"Email\" name=\"et_pb_signup_email\" \/><\/p><p class=\"et_pb_newsletter_button_wrap\"><a class=\"et_pb_button et_pb_newsletter_button\" href=\"#\" data-icon=\"E\"><span class=\"et_subscribe_loader\"><\/span><span class=\"et_pb_newsletter_button_text\">SUBSCRIBE<\/span><\/a><\/p><\/div><input type=\"hidden\" name=\"et_pb_signup_provider\" value=\"mailerlite\" \/><input type=\"hidden\" name=\"et_pb_signup_list_id\" value=\"\" \/><input type=\"hidden\" name=\"et_pb_signup_account_name\" value=\"123665865706047230\" \/><input type=\"hidden\" name=\"et_pb_signup_ip_address\" value=\"true\" \/><input type=\"hidden\" name=\"et_pb_signup_checksum\" value=\"c5e72bb381b05efddb6a4a31492a1895\" \/><\/form><\/div><\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n<div class=\"et_pb_section_3 et_pb_section et_section_regular et_block_section\">\n<div class=\"et_pb_row_8 et_pb_row et_block_row\">\n<div class=\"et_pb_column_10 et_pb_column et_pb_column_4_4 et-last-child et_block_column et_pb_css_mix_blend_mode_passthrough\">\n<div class=\"et_pb_comments_0 et_pb_comments_module et_pb_no_comments_count et_pb_bg_layout_light et_pb_module et_block_module\" data-icon=\"E\" data-icon-tablet=\"\" data-icon-phone=\"\"><\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>With everything swirling around in the world, and lately in my life, I began to feel that I\u2019d lost the poet in me, the lover of Beauty and Truth. My last two posts contained too much complaining, too much exposition on the ongoing dramas of day to day challenges. They were, indeed, a glimpse of my authentic life, but not necessarily the best of my authentic Self&#8230;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":223237,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[165,200,3],"class_list":["post-223307","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized","tag-poetry","tag-spring-equinox","tag-writing"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/rachellerogers.com\/dev1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/223307","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/rachellerogers.com\/dev1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/rachellerogers.com\/dev1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/rachellerogers.com\/dev1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/rachellerogers.com\/dev1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=223307"}],"version-history":[{"count":10,"href":"https:\/\/rachellerogers.com\/dev1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/223307\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":223321,"href":"https:\/\/rachellerogers.com\/dev1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/223307\/revisions\/223321"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/rachellerogers.com\/dev1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/223237"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/rachellerogers.com\/dev1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=223307"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/rachellerogers.com\/dev1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=223307"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/rachellerogers.com\/dev1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=223307"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}