Flowers of the Field is currently open for submissions, May 1 - May 15.

Some Guidance for the Summer “Looking for (My) Life” Submission Call:

The window for the summer theme of “Looking for (My) Life” opens on May 1 and closes May 15 at midnight. Please note that we will not read poems or devotionals sent before or after that window unless we give you specific permission to send a piece early or late. Read the guidelines carefully and follow them. Keep in mind that we do not accept attachments.

I was watching an episode of the television program The Good Doctor when I was stopped in my tracks by the following scene. Dr. Glassman’s house had burned down, and he is digging in the sooty rubble for mementos, especially ones that symbolize his relationship with his daughter who had died years before. Dr. Shaun Murphy, an autistic savant, and a close, dear friend, comes searching for Dr. Glassman. When Dr. Murphy sees Dr. Glassman in the ruin, fishing into the ashes with his hands, he says, “What . . . are you looking for?” Aaron Glassman replies, “Oh, you know, my life. Just my life.” It is a powerful scene, full of despair and pathos. ((359) Dr. Aaron Glassman recalls the memories of his house with Shaun | The Good Doctor S6 - YouTube) 

Fortunately, the story doesn’t end there, but Glassman’s answer provides a question to ponder. He’s looking for his life. His house, and the memories represented by the house and the objects in the house—even a bottle of fingernail polish he unearths—make up his life. Perhaps he does not answer with his full power of philosophical or spiritual insight at that moment, but his answer still stops me. Where do I look for my life? What constitutes it? What gives it meaning, hope, buoyancy? I ask these questions as the theme for this upcoming issue. Where do you find your life? What gives it meaning beyond the moment? What is your reason for being?

Dr. Glassman’s experience provides one of the angles for this theme—it is the angle of “looking.” The search for meaning may be ongoing rather than conclusive. In fact, I would argue that much important poetry is about the search more than about the discovery. I welcome poems and devotionals about the search, the “looking.” I also welcome—and dearly crave—poems and devotionals that give an answer to such an important question.

Do the flowers of the field merely exist, serving their time and then fading, or do they serve a higher purpose? Are they only for man’s enjoyment, or do they have a place in heaven’s economy? I hope every theme I present in this journal will help you, as a writer, investigate things of earth and things of heaven.

I look forward to how you will surprise me. Writers see the world in unexpected ways, and I love for you to take me into a scene as powerful as poor Dr. Glassman in his burned-out basement, holding up his daughter’s scorched bottle of fingernail polish, holding it and thinking back to happy moments when all around him screams destruction. CAS 

First things first: The window for the spring theme of tension opens on February 1 and closes February 15 at midnight. Please note that we will not read poems or devotionals sent before or after that window unless we give you specific permission to send a piece early or late. Read the guidelines carefully and follow them. Keep in mind that we do not accept attachments.

Now about tension: I recall several fine writers who spoke of tension within the work itself. One writer said she wanted to create additional interest within the body of her poem. She felt she had a good handle on beginnings and endings, but she didn’t want the poem to weaken or fade in the middle lines. One way to strengthen a poem in the middle section is to add tension—that is, elements that push and pull against each other. Another way of thinking of this is conflict, although the conflict may be something other than two characters who are in confrontation with each other. What can be said about a poem, in this case, also can be said about a thoughtful devotional.

The possibilities with such a theme as tension are great, especially if you think of tension within the work. However, we will be looking for poems or devotionals that in some obvious way bring tension to the fore. What are internal conflicts that cause tension (or tenseness)? What are diametrically opposed ideas in society that create an atmosphere of tension? (And here, I would beg for caution, for an overtly political poem or devotional often becomes a rant, and not a strong rant at that.) What are conflicts in nature, the push and pull of elements against each other? What are tensions in family settings, whether somewhat natural or unexpected? What are the difficulties in balancing a view of earth against a view of heaven. Surely, there is tension in the flesh versus the spirit.

Here are a few teases: When I crochet, the tension I keep on the yarn affects the regularity of the weave. On a chainsaw, the chain cannot be too loose, or it will fly off the bar, or too tight, or the chain will not rotate. Proper tension affects the outcome. Tense muscles might benefit from a massage. In a funeral message, a preacher may admit to earthly foibles of the deceased while proclaiming hope of the afterlife.

We look forward to how you will surprise us. Writers see the world in unexpected ways, and we love for you to create tension within us, the tension of expectancy!   CAS