River Going Home: Our 2025 Stafford Challenge Parting Poem

A collaborative poem written by the 2025 cohort of The Stafford Challenge

A circle is complete.
I no longer feel alone.
Did I capture color around me.
Capture, hold on, embrace.

Sudden divorce rocked me, a life line.
No goodbyes - you kept me grounded, sane.
Turned words from anchors to stars.

Roses, planted, still bloom.
Seedling blooming, pruning, never dormant.
It's not complete, so try again.
The rainbow ends at my feet.

I am only the shadow of a poem.
Our poems, a year of stars.
Following found family out into the world.
A taste still on the tongue.
A cold front hovered in the distance.

I met satisfaction at the milestone.
Mother muse, let us rest.
I am the Sky.
The beauty of words.
The end of the beginning.
Often imperfect, but still I strive.

Lest we forget this marvelous dream.
Tiptoe in, closed, step out, open.
I entered the halls of poetry.
Then soil embraced seed.

Hot sparks light the wild universe.
It took one year to simply get started.
The beginning of ends.
My poetic voice just waking up.
I was alone, now found.

Dreams become visceral when written.
An awakening to creativity.
Learned to see more every day.
The frayed thread loses its knot.
A year of poems...what joy!

River rushing, untired, reaches the sea.
I garnish my plate with parsley.
Pencil worn down, eraser flattened, exchanged for life giving words.
Rounding up the ridiculous to survive.

Early morning mist rises and billows.
Saying aloud what I’ve said in my mind.
Wind, moon, sea, unending, carrying on.
Made room for wonder and miracles.
Amen. Holy, holding words-- end, begin again.

Time each day to go deep. Awake.
Still discovering where to begin.
Practice prepares, it doesn’t end.
Knowing what I do, I am.

Knowing perseverance saved my days.
Moon on the snow, footsteps filling with blue.
What was kindled burns brightly.
Sunset, earthrise, strengthening heart.

Oh! just now I understand loving commitment.
This abundant year, replete with joy, exuberant.
True keys won't be lost.
This lyrical lightness, once tasted, prevails.
Where birds' chorus ends - peace remains.
River going home, falling into itself.

Voices set free, rising like bubbles to the sky and freedom.
The end. Farewell. Now where?
Sadness in ending— Joy of courage found.
Friends made in poetry, never lost.
Beauty, depth, small group power, wonder, gratitude!!
The doe and its fawn have nestled in the tall grass.
Another revolution concluded.
River going home, falling into itself.