I have been unable to write poetry for some reason of late so I signed up for a poetry workshop that meets for eight Monday nights. I missed the first one but she sent me the recording of it on-line. I continue to marvel at this world. We were given many prompts with which to begin a poem but I found myself with the one for happy memories. How does one choose, one might ask, but water was also suggested as a stimulant, and so I returned to our two years living on the Mississippi River. I believe I have mentioned before how there was an island there in the river where we lived, which allowed the water to freeze, so we could ice skate over in the winter. I remember standing on that island looking up at the branches of the trees. I think that island may be my axis mundi, my navel of the world. Where is yours? What anchors you here, roots you, as you reach for sky? http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Axis_mundi