Wonder Fell Itself
Thoughts on Wonder Fell itself...
Why
America's never had an Epic Poet; I had to make my own way.
Monday, March 30, 2026
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
Let's talk about why.
I rarely go personal here. Wonder Fell isn't a memoir or a self-help guide. It's not a coaching manual or advice. I'm no guru. I'm a poet whose experience of adult life was Hell for no fault of his own.
A chronic auto-immune illness, Sarcoidosis, took the opportunity of a decent life from me. After a decade of fighting just about full-time, I beat it into remission.
Recognizing the value of time, I went to work doing what I love most: Writing. Non-stop.
It was during the time of Co-vid. I put together an anthology of poetry to give to the world.
One morning while driving to one of my favorite spots to write and work on its publication, an SUV travelling over 50 miles per hour broke a double yellow and drove into my driver's seat and lap.
I woke up three days later in an ICU with a host of internal injuries, my left leg split in two, and a medical team waiting for me to remain conscious enough to operate on.
It took me a year to learn to walk again and another two years to fully heal all the nerve damage from the crash.
In the meantime, I worked: On Wonder Fell, On New-New Hampshire, On Colore.
I've known I'm a poet since high school. But what the Hell is a poet supposed to do in America? Work for Hallmark, teach at a University, or pick up a guitar and start a rock band.
I considered all three, but accepting any is an admittance that poetry is not enough.
The Ancient Greeks, Milton, Chaucer, Blake, Shakespeare, and so many other great minds that helped move civilizations forward disagreed, too.
There's more to poetry than University classrooms, Pharmacy Card Aisles, and lyrics for popular songs.
America's never had an Epic Poet; I had to make my own way.
Wonder Fell is an Epic Letter Poem sent to the Creative Spirit of a Friend every sunrise.
Hey friend. O/ Thank you for reading and sharing it.
I've beat death twice, scientifically so. I believe I've been able to because my dream to share words with you is so strong. And maybe the message inherit in these lines can matter that much.
Humbly, I believe it can.
Beauty, Hope, Love, and Joy... the stations of Poetry are what's missing most from my Country's monologue.
And so, from your life.
There's no self-help, guru guide here... Wonder Fell is what's missing.
Art, Music, Life alive! Where are you? As of late... where are you?
The volume is turned up too loud on the radio to hear the music. That's the state of The Arts in America, at present.
Let's paint, draw, write, and sing tribute to quiet worthwhile moments, to the beauty of a sunrise.
You see, it's a journal of a poet whose only had hope and his desire to share words with you his whole life.
I've been through the worst; it's why I share the best: That's how we rise.
Words worth beating death twice for the chance to share.
I hope you find inspiration here. Life really isn't worth much without it.
Go ahead and have that wonderful day, it's up to you, after all.
~ Wynn ~
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Enter The Poet. O/
A new way to see and sense requires new language to express and experience it.
Monday, March 23, 2026
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
A few hundred first thing in the morning words to help keep us grounded and guided as we shift to a more artificially intelligent world.
Everyday.
From a poet, nonetheless... those whose craft AI can never measure.
There's a unique rhythm of voice and word choice to make new metaphors which cannot be replicated that's intrinsic in poetry.
A new way to see and sense requires new language to express and experience it.
Enter The Poet. O/
Welcome to Wonder Fell. Stay awhile and read. Remember the world's still a beautiful place when we know where and how to look.
Thanks for looking.
...
How's your sunshine?
Like a blue light in a darkroom on a dimmer switch set to low, dawn shows in the night sky.
Wonder Fell's been wanting the past couple mornings. More... something new... a new light... some new arrangement of words?
Perhaps it's the call of Spring doing its thing.
Change! Grow! Live! The song of Spring.
Make it Beautiful one more spin.
Earth's Grow Show now in session.
Expect some changes in Wonder Fell soon.
Aesthetics, perhaps.
I hope all's well with you Dear Reader.
Nothing profound to find here this morning other than Spring's insistence to match Poetry's Commandment: "Make it new."
Maybe it's time for some upgrades in your Life.
Consider it, take care, and make a wonderful day.
~ Wynn ~
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Pic Prompt: Create a stick figure pen and ink drawing of a desk on top of the world with a book and a quill on it.
Archaic Slab
A Literal Process
Evolution, for humanity, is a literal process.
Monday, March 16, 2026
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
Rain. The first light of dawn.
Like the best restaurant waiter comes to ask you how's your meal, so Wonder Fell inquires: How's your sunshine?
Did you get what you hoped for?
With all this wishing upon all these stars, funny how we forget the Sun's one too.
If it's day, there's no reason to search for a star to send your wishes to. Just look up.
If physics has anything to do with making wishes come true, it'll get here faster. The Sun's the granter of dreams closest to us.
Fairytales and daydreams, poetry and an epic poem... words that make lasting change.
Wonder Fell's cup of tea.
...
The only way to ever truly change anything is to update your definitions of your words.
It's the reason for censorship and why poets in cultures long ago were treated with such respect.
Our craft is the only way change sticks.
Evolution, for humanity, is a literal process.
Update your definitions to upgrade your life.
America's been stuck in the muck on some very important words since our inception.
We've debated, we've marched, we've shed blood to prove our points. But none of those efforts instituted a lasting change.
Because the definitions remain.
Freedom, justice, race, equality... are some examples of words stuck in American muck.
The only way to heal our divides of understanding is to institute new stories to grow the definitions of our key Constitutional terms.
It takes poets and artists and musicians to paint a new picture of America to live in.
This is not pie-in-the-sky poet daydreamy thinking. This is the way civilizations are built and endure.
Colore is a starting point.
So I go back to it.
Thanks for reading, take care, and make that wonderful day.
~ Wynn ~
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Archaic Slab
For Your Witness
2026.03.15 The World is a great orchestrated dance for your witness.
Sunday, March 15, 2026
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
Welcome back. O/
Pink lavender covers a band of evergreens to contour line the horizon in the northwestern sky.
We wake; we rise. Our days and lives are bookended in sleep.
Poetic, philosophic, just a poet's journal to announce the sunrise and share words with you that perhaps you forgot or were never told.
"Go. Go. Go! Do. Do. Do! Achieve!"
- So shouts so often The Modern World.
But where are you going? What are you doing? Who are you achieving for?
Who are you? What are your dreams for?
At some point, and I hope it's early on in life, you pause and consider what life is worth to you.
Unfortunately, so lately, for so many of us that moment occurs late in your life or after some tragedy.
I consider it with every sunrise here.
Maybe you'll join me everyday. The world could use more considerate people.
In fact, the world won't survive unless it gets some more considerate people.
Your life isn't worth anything more than survival and distraction if you never stop and consider its value once and awhile.
There's more to life than fireworks and faster.
There's Beauty in the world when you're brave enough to notice it... to be it.
If all you see when you see a tree is a heap of molecules, you're missing and forgetting the choreography of those molecules.
Those atoms shake! Those quarks quake! What makes quantum anything dance is my business. Noticing it is your way to a fuller, richer, more Beautiful life.
The World is a great orchestrated dance for your witness.
Recognize it, take care, and make a wonderful day.
~ Wynn ~
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You're a Mirror for Sunshine
You're more than a puzzle to enumerate.
Thursday, March 12, 2026
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
Hi. O/
First time here, or long time friends, welcome and thanks for reading.
Been at this awhile. There's hundreds of sunrises in a row recorded here for you.
My hope is that Wonder Fell reignites some wonder back into your dull scientific life.
You're more than a puzzle to enumerate. You're a fiery sphere of celestial incandescence. You catch and reflect the light. You're a mirror for sunshine.
Didn't you know?
No?
Good thing you have me around then. O/
...
There are only three rules to writing well:
- The first is to be clear.
- The second is to only write what you would love to read.
- The third is to always be honest with yourself that you're following rules one and two.
I often wondered about the lives of poets. The ways they thought about day-to-day living. So many of their biographies are wrote by very un-poetic people.
Poetry emphasizes a conciseness of language. There's not a lot to read though their work speaks volumes.
I suppose it's like a teacher concerned about doing her profession justice, a scientist or architect wanting to do their job well, that's had me wondering.
More important to that teacher, scientist, and architect than the tools and techniques others employed is the manner of thinking of each professional.
What ways were they thinking about life to bring them so much success?
Van Gogh's Letters say so much about every brushstroke. If you're a painter, read some to benefit your work.
Rilke's got his Letters to a Young Poet, but what about the established Poet?
Both those works are looking glasses inside the minds of artists. Our binary blipping enumerated lives are starving for the inspiration and vision found there.
And so... Wonder Fell.
The Ancient Greeks, and every great civilization, revered poets. Doing so is integral to a society's success.
The World's been lacking the kind of attention a poet's point of view brings for a very long time.
I couldn't find it to read anywhere else, so I write it every morning at sunrise.
A prolific lack calls for a prolific poet.
Thanks for reading.
If you're inspired even ever so slightly, I'll consider it a win.
And a pun.
Take care and make a wonderful day.
~ Wynn ~
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The Experience of Language
AI is not making the artist's way obsolete; it's making every other way obsolete.
Wednesday, March 11, 2026
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
Wonder Fell. The title, the first line, a single sentence, a descriptive phrase, a TL;DR: of what occurs in this journal every morning... a place where wonder falls with the sunlight.
A pun, too... because: Poet. O/
Thanks for reading.
...
Of course our intended meaning of each word matters while we write, but the size, shape, and rhythm of our syntax does too.
We call the umbrella Lyricism; poets and songwriters share the dry in the rain space with purpose, but so do you.
The rhythm and sound of our language adds to its meaning. Think of a Pop Song to understand.
Poets, unlike popular musicians, rely on the voice in your head to be our only instrument.
There is a lyric quality to all writing. Poets focus on it directly.
But the rhythm of our words affects our day-to-day life as much as it does in a rap song.
Now, I'm not suggesting we should all go around speaking and writing in metric verse. I'm saying we already, most certainly, do.
The syllables and sounds we choose shape our breath to shape our message.
A punctuation exercise shows this truth:
Yes. Yes? Yes!
OK. OK? OK!
Sure. Sure? Sure!
Even a one word answer meaning the same thing means something different based on the sounds and syllables of the speaker-writer.
The cadence of language is part of the experience of language. There's no need to focus on it. Be aware of it though, while you edit your work to help your writing.
It's like playing a song by ear. When we write and speak we listen to our inner voice and then shape it with the instrument called words.
Writers, if something sounds off in your prose and you're sure the words are right, now you know why. The rhythm of the sentence doesn't match the metronome of the message.
Poets don't waste words; novelists tend to.
Readers want to move the plot along while many authors describe the drapes.
If the curtains help set the stage, give insight into the character's state of mind, or foreshadow things to come... describe away!
Every word and rhythm of phrase should serve the story's success or cut it out.
...
One interesting aspect of Wonder Fell is not knowing. Every morning I sit and write what's on my mind with the sunrise.
That's the intent.
History has little record of the personal ways of Poets. People made so much up. Fish stories... most of it.
Wonder Fell is a getting to know you session with a living poet. I never would've started it had I thought it would become one. The task sounds too vain. But I see now the importance.
How artists think and feel and experience the world is sorely lacking from our day-to-day experience.
AI is not making the artist's way obsolete; it's making every other way obsolete.
A prompt is a very poetical thing to write, indeed.
There's plenty of writing on AI and Science, and how AI will soon do all our Science for us, on Wonder Fell.
Back to the sunrise. Uneventful blue sometimes wispy cloud pre-Spring sky.
Nice day for a nice day kind of nice day.
Take care and make it a wonderful one.
~ Wynn ~
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Honest Witness
There's medicine in every sunrise.
Tuesday, March 10, 2026
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
Words like a witch's spell to cast wonder back into your day.
What happens while we read is a kind of magic. The process has the potential to completely change your life.
Words are humanity's greatest skill. Everything else about us is not-so-hairy-monkey-stuff without words.
So I write to focus on what's best about us to help bring about what's best about us.
There's medicine in every sunrise.
Did you know?
Dawn isn't an alarm clock; sunrise sounds a symphony.
Every morning.
This isn't optimism. It's honest witness.
Do you enjoy watching an Artist paint a picture?
Every morning The Sun fills and floods our day with color, so you can live in a masterpiece.
The Sun is a Master Artist who paints on sphere shaped frames.
I like to believe The Earth is our star's favorite work. How about you?
Every painter is an understudy of our supernova.
Light grey gradient of cloud cover this morning, sure to give way to an unseasonable warm blue sky.
Hope all's well, Dear Reader.
If not check a sunrise or two and see your life brand new.
The Sun creates a new masterpiece every morning to live in.
Whether you've been too distracted to notice, or no one ever told you... so do you.
Take care and color your life wonderful.
~ Wynn ~
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Archaic Slab
The Answer is Beauty
You'd be better off jumping off a bridge without a bungee cord than attempting to live without a place for The Beautiful in your Life.
Saturday, March 07, 2026
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
Thaw. Temperatures start to rise.
Spring springing its sprung mists from snowbanks to water every tree from the ground up.
...
What's the use of Beauty? It's part of my Life and Livelihood to celebrate and share it, so what's the point?
Many morning entries touch on what's up with The Beautiful.
But why should you care?
You could, of course, plug your wants and ambitions into some AI software and follow day by day the Large Language Model's replies everyday all day and live a respectable, quite un-beautiful, though successful and unfulfilling Life.
You'd be better off jumping off a bridge without a bungee cord than attempting to live without a place for The Beautiful in your Life.
The experience of beautiful things is a recognition of the harmony of coexistence.
Certain notes come together to make a certain pleasing chord.
It's the same with all acts of creation.
Certain words arranged in a particular manner evoke unique responses in a reader. It's my cup of tea; my Life is built around bringing forth Beautiful recognitions through words.
When words bring about a certain harmony between author and reader we call the experience: Beautiful.
How are we doing? O/
We shape our dreams in the same way we read: Words label clouds of imagination to rain down ideas.
The experience of making a dream into a reality is nowhere better reflected than while we read.
This is the human process AI seeks to emulate.
The important question here is why.
Why do we make language at all?
The answer is Beauty.
To build harmonious relationships with ourselves and Life.
There is so much more to say on this.
A lot is here already on Wonder Fell.
Type in a keyword of something of interest in the search bar.^
Chances are there's a tag for that.
Making labels (and tearing them down) is a Poet's business after all.
Thanks for reading, take care and make a wonderful day.
~ Wynn ~
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Pic Prompt: Create a stick figure pen and ink image of flowers under an evergreen tree during a misty dawn in New England.
Archaic Slab