Next Time…

This month Mary Lee offered up our monthly challenge. She asked us to use the poem “Next Time” by Joyce Sutphen as an inspiration to write our own “next time” poem.

There’s something so evocative about that phrase: “next time.” It incorporates both a sense of regret and a sense of hope. It offers a chance to “re-do” and intimates that there will be a time and place for doing so. Paradoxically, it seems to hold both the possibility of agonizing over mistakes (perceived or real) and/or of anticipating redemption.

For some reason, I really struggled to wrap my head around responding to this challenge. I’ve stopped and started again and again. I’ve played with tone and topic, writing and rewriting. The phrase has lived in my head like a resounding echo: “Next time…next time…next time…” Still, despite many starts, I’ve struggled to come up with one coherent poem.

At this point, I’m already late posting, so I’m cobbling together a few strands from my fits and starts, and hoping they hold together, however draftily.

Next Time

I won’t mourn
the hummingbird’s absence
whilst it still lingers in my garden. 

I won’t spend too long lingering
in the past or the future.
I’ll take the hike, dive into the sea,
read the book and write the poem.
I’ll focus on creating a here and now
to savor.

Next time, I’ll learn earlier about perspective–
how shifting your lens
can change the world from frightening
to exciting, bringing new views
and understandings.

I’ll embrace each challenge, enjoy the process,
buckle up and ride the highs and lows
of the learning curve, leaning into faith, 
rather than fearing failure’s stain.

Next time, I’ll wear that stain
like a badge of honor
a proud proclamation that I
didn’t settle into complacency,
nestling too deeply into
my comfort zone.

I’ll also know
the comfort zone isn’t a bad place
to linger for a while.
It just shouldn’t become
a permanent residence.

Next time I won’t be seduced by comfort
or become paralyzed
in a web of “what if’s” and worries.
I’ll turn a deaf ear to the siren’s call
of safety and perfection, boldly
ignore the neat restraints of convention
and step forward to spread my wings.

Even if I only flap wildly
or fly in an ungainly manner
even if I never soar…
I’ll try.
Next time.

©Molly Hogan, draft

If you’re interested in seeing what the other Inklings did with this challenge, click on the links below:

Linda @A Word Edgewise
Mary Lee @Another Year of Reading
Catherine @ Reading to the Core
Margaret @Reflections on the Teche
Heidi @my juicy little universe

This week’s Poetry Friday Roundup is hosted by Buffy Silverman at her blog. She’s offering a sneak peek into her soon-to-be-released book, Starlight Symphony. Be sure to stop by and take a look at this gorgeous book and check out some other poetry links while you’re there.

26 thoughts on “Next Time…

  1. maryleehahn's avatar maryleehahn says:

    I love how you played with time — past, present, future, and next time — even poking some fun with your blog title!

    That first stanza is a good reminder all on its own. And the bit about perspective. So true.

    Liked by 1 person

    • mbhmaine's avatar mbhmaine says:

      Thanks, Mary Lee. I almost just shared the first stanza by itself! 🙂 Also, thanks for a great prompt. Even if it stymied me a bit, it’s made for some very interesting reflection.

      Like

  2. margaretsmn's avatar margaretsmn says:

    It’s interesting to me how your “next time” says so much about who you are this time. Like me, you love a good comfort zone, but also know changing perspective can lead to new discoveries and fear is no way to live. I like this poem all the way through. Next time don’t doubt yourself so much.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Tabatha's avatar Tabatha says:

    Yes, “It incorporates both a sense of regret and a sense of hope.” These poems feel bittersweet! Good job persevering!

    Liked by 1 person

  4. I think your poem did spread its wings and soar! And this line is the advice I need right now: I won’t spend too long lingering
    in the past or the future.

    Glad you persevered and shared your poem.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Judith Mansour's avatar Judith Mansour says:

    I felt that poem deep inside of me. ❤️

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Tracey Kiff-Judson's avatar Tracey Kiff-Judson says:

    Haha, Molly, I love the idea of wearing a stain like a badge of honor! I may have to try that. : )

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Yes, the first stanza says it all about life right now—I read it several times over before continuing. You wrote such a beautiful balance between the importance of risk-taking and being entitled to comfort and safety, too. Beautiful poem.

    Liked by 1 person

  8. Linda Mitchell's avatar Linda Mitchell says:

    Wonderful use of repetition…and it’s not angsty. LOL. There’s a sense of grit and determination in this. Good cobbling, girl!

    Liked by 1 person

  9. lindabaie's avatar lindabaie says:

    If this is cobbling together, I so enjoyed your creation, Molly, that “a proud proclamation that I 
    didn’t settle into complacency,” says much to me. There is some kind of advice I remember from ? that says if you don’t jump into the water, you’ll never understand the word “wet”. I may not have gotten it exactly right, but it’s what I thought of when I read your, to me, timeless, words! Thanks for not giving up and sharing!

    Liked by 1 person

  10. heidimordhorst's avatar heidimordhorst says:

    There’s a reason our group works, and it shows up in these poems. Or maybe this would be the output of any poetry group…hard to know. But I like your cobblings and this brave stanza in particular.

    Next time, I’ll wear that stainlike a badge of honora proud proclamation that Ididn’t settle into complacency,nestling too deeply intomy comfort zone.

    Liked by 2 people

  11. Oh yes – your words about listening to the siren’s call, taking that risk, leaving the comfort zone – next time, next time.

    Liked by 1 person

  12. Wonderful response, Molly – I was immediately hooked by that early hummingbird image, because today I was looking at the hanging petunia basket on the front porch, wondering if I would see “our” hummingbird again now that the tree leaves are starting to tinge with color. Lots of life in all these lines!

    Liked by 2 people

  13. Poetry of Hope! Thank you for the reminder. The stanza that resonates with me this morning.

    “Next time, I’ll learn earlier about perspective–
    how shifting your lens
    can change the world from frightening
    to exciting, bringing new views
    and understandings.”

    Have you heard of H.O.P.E? Hold on, pain ends.

    Liked by 2 people

  14. Karen Edmisten's avatar Karen Edmisten says:

    The beauty of “next time” is that even if we’ve already had a lot of next times, there truly is always another one coming. I loved your musings and have a new word — “draftily.” 😀

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a reply to mbhmaine Cancel reply