I forgot I wrote two prompts last Thursday at the creative writing workshop. I didn’t share this one because, well, we had to interpret poetry and I am TERRIBLE at interpreting poetry. The prompt called for us to read, ‘The Summer Day’ and write our own interpretation of it. If we couldn’t write something along the same lines, we were allowed to take the following phrase and roll with it, “Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” After fifteen long and painful minutes, I managed to scrape together this.
Fly away to a land where poetry and words are easily interpreted,
to a place where context is easily communicated,
where ideas and actions aren’t lost in translation.
A place where concepts can be grasped like an apple plucked from a tree.
A tree whose branches reach into the sky
weaving, and entwining.
Stretching higher than the heavens, the earth, and the Milkyway galaxy.
Beyond the limits of our imagination,
where words can mean anything, or where words can mean nothing.
I should like to go there,
in another life.
S. L. WYLLIE