The Long Way Home

Wednesday Poetry Club. Plus, a poem from Zane Paxton.

Hello!

My name is Tanner. I am an author, spoken word poet, and speaker. Every week I share a few hopeful poems, prayers, and reflections. If you enjoy the words I share, I’d love to have you support this ministry at the monthly, annual, or founding member level.

One quick note before we dive into this week’s edition of Wednesday Poetry Club!

My children’s book, All the Things I Say to God: Learning to Pray Anytime, Anywhere, is just $12 this week on Amazon! It makes a wonderful gift for the little ones in your life and is a great way to introduce them to prayer in a simple, heartfelt way.

Welcome to the Wednesday Poetry Club.

If you want to know more about Wednesday Poetry Club, scroll to the bottom for all the details, but all you really need to know is that Wednesday Poetry Club is for poets, readers, and anyone who loves language. It lives entirely on Substack. Every Wednesday, poems are shared, inspiration is sparked, and a sense of community grows.

I have a handful of poems for you to sit with today.

The first is from my Substack friend, Zane Paxton. He is a poet and writer living in Lincoln, NE. Thanks to Notes I came across Zane’s work. It’s honest, inviting, and hopeful. Three of my favorite things. If you’re looking for a new writer/poet to follow, check out Zane’s work. It’s fantastic.

Where the Sidewalk Cracks
By Zane Paxton

I step across
where the sidewalk cracks.
The roots beneath
and blackened earth escape
the trap of flattened aggregates.
A single blade of grass stands
mighty
in the wake of destruction,

an Excalibur
amongst rubbled rock
and broken seams.
It’s viridescent gleam awakened
like the dawning of afternoons
when children run home from playgrounds
and mothers stroll their newborns
below the fair skies.

They look not
upon the rebellion of this fissure,
a triumph
embedded inside the familiar road,

breaking the concrete ceiling,
leaving untamed inevitably
basking between the soil and the sun.

I step across
where the sidewalk cracks.
A misshapen mountain thought
adequate to its broader form;
purpose born unleveled on the edges.

Not unlike the damage that adorns the textured surface.
I take it for granted
and I move along, over, and beside the
disadvantaged layers
to never notice the nobility nearby.

Life inside the sight of God.
Preserved by a prayer so bold
it must be whispered.
The silent miracle, offering witness
concealed significance,
but stuck in stone
to not be known
unless I take hold to not forget it.

Before we get to the poem . . .

As I sat on stage, listening to Blake Flattley play one of his songs, I flipped through my book, Walk A Little Slower. Blake and I tour the country, hosting evening of music and poetry. Blake plays music. I share poetry. Every show I leave an open space in the set. For the most part every song and poem is planned, but not this section of the show.

Leading up to this point I try to get a feel for the room.

On this particular night, I flipped to page 100.

The Long Way Home.

It’s a poem I have never read on stage, but something in me wanted to read it.

I quickly skimmed it as Blake was finishing up a song.

It seemed fitting.

So, I stepped up the mic and read the poem.

After the show someone came up to me and asked, “What was that poem about the long way home?”

I grabbed a copy of Walk A Little Slower: A Collection of Poems and Other Words and showed her the page.

”This one. This is what I needed to hear tonight,” She said with a smile.

I smiled back, handed her a copy of the book and said,

“Well, now you can read it whenever you’d like.”

The Long Way Home

I’m choosing to take the long way home.

I’ve checked the map and studied story after story.

My finger has run beneath every line, and I’ve come to realize that even when there are storms in the sky, there are always ways to remain hopeful and dry.

I’ve got enough soul in my step to keep from sinking and plenty of promises that keep me from panicking.

Along the way, my dirty hands will continue to fold as I pray.

Maybe I’ll even stumble upon the right words to say.

And today, like it glows at the end of the tunnel, so does the light burn bright inside, reminding me I can take another step.

And I will.

One foot in front of the other with the grace and peace that has led me to be where I am and will take me to where I am going.

And I am going forward and, like I've always found before, I will find that hope has been within me the entire time.

I don’t know what is ahead, and I don’t need to know.

I've lived through what is behind and somehow, I stand here alive.

I know where I am going.

And this time, I’m choosing to take the long way home.

After all, I’m going home.

Long live the Wednesday Poetry Club!

Much love,

Tanner

PS
If you’d like to listen to more of my poetry, check out my latest poem Come Back to Yourself.

Website | 📚 Books | On Instagram | On Facebook | ⭐️ Online store

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What is Wednesday Poetry Club?

Wednesday Poetry Club is for poets, readers, and anyone who loves language. It lives entirely on Substack. Every Wednesday, poems are shared, inspiration is sparked, and a sense of community grows.

A few things to clarify about Wednesday Poetry Club:
Some have asked, what time on Wednesday does Poetry Club meet?
There is no time. You just share a poem on Wednesday.
There is no meeting. You just share a poem on Wednesday.

So, it’s really simple?
Yes, we don’t have to complicate everything. Just share a poem and tell people you’re part of a poetry club that shares poetry on Wednesdays.

The whole point of the Wednesday Poetry Club is to write and share poetry. On Wednesday’s we want to flood Substack with poems! So, if you care about poetry and want to be part of something creative and meaningful, you are part of the club.

How do people know I am part of the Wednesday Poetry Club?
We have some logos you can add to your posts or images to show you're part of the club. You can also include this line in your post:

“On Wednesdays, a group of writers share their poems as part of the Wednesday Poetry Club.”

You can also make it part of your Subtitle in your post.

Something like, “Wednesday Poetry Club.”

So it’s really simple?
Yes. Maybe too simple.

Does it cost money?
No. Who has money? It’s free to join and participate. We do have merch, but anyone can just be part of the Wednesday Poetry Club.

How do I join?
Write a poem. Share it on Wednesday. Post in here on Substack. Mention that you’re part of the Wednesday Poetry Club. Tag me if you’d like. Add the logo to your post. Tell people about the club. That’s all it takes. You’re in. You might be writing on your own, but you’re not doing it alone.

What if I miss a Wednesday?
That’s totally okay. This is about showing up when you can and letting poetry be a joy, not a burden. But if you write a poem, why not share it on Wednesday?

Why Wednesdays?
Remember in Mean Girls, when they said, “On Wednesdays, we wear pink”? Well, on Wednesdays we share poems. It’s just what we do. You can wear pink if you’d like.

Also, it’s the middle of the week a little poetry pick-me-up might be just what we need.

So — want in?

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Next Steps

1. Download the logos.

2. Share about the Wednesday Poetry Club on your Notes.

3. Grab some merch.

4. And as always … go write some poetry.