Algonquin poets were challenged to compose a poem titled “Why Poetry is Medicine for the Soul”
I am very pleased to announce the winners of the poetry contest I put forward on May 28, 2021.
Celine Whiteduck took first prize
Stéphanie Meunier took second prize
I am extremely proud of these two emerging poets. All of us who embrace poetry as ‘Medicine for the Soul’ should encourage Celine and Stéphanie to keep writing.
Here are the winning poems:
My Truth
by Celine Whiteduck
The gentle whisper of words
that fall unto my pen
and ever so gently unto
the page allows me
to speak my truth
They share the emotions
that embody my heart
and my senses as they
reach my mind to find
the words
Each sense alive embraces
the beauty that surrounds
me and speaks to
me ever so gently
so that I can embody
this truth
Each word expressing the
gentle flow of my connection
with the world around
me and shares the distinction
between what is me
and what is not me
The connection is where
the true beauty lies
as the connection is
my own lived experience
uniquely my own truth
Words are the vehicle
that share my relationship
to this time and space
The words allow the
connection to gently take
shape and form and
have a home
Why poetry is medicine for the soul
by Stéphanie Meunier
Why poetry is medicine for the soul?
Because everything you lived needs to be told
A blank page is a friend who wants to hear your story
From the beginning till the end
Nice talking may be an art
But writing is the language of the heart
If you were filled with emotions and wrote it down
You might be surprised of what you’ve found
You have some treasures of nice memories inside you
Like gems that just waits for you to remember about them
Here is a poem I wrote:
Poetry: Medicine for the Soul
Albert Dumont ©
On words, reaching into
Our minds, hearts and spirits, we travel
Floating on their poetic stanzas
To the branches of the tallest pine trees
We see on the distant horizon
We imagine ourselves there, at peace
Sitting by the side of a majestic raven
We submerge ourselves into the untold generations
Of wisdom, kept well by the raven
And see that words can become as medicines
We can bring gently into our hearts
To chase forever away, the rage
Placed there, because of our neglect
Of the spiritual bundles
Left in our care by our ancestors
Keep the Circle Strong,
South Wind
