Saturday, July 26, 2014

poem for this moment

              "Poetry is a life-cherishing force. For poems are not words, after all, 
               but fires for the cold, ropes let down to the lost, something as necessary 
              as bread in the pockets of the hungry." 
                                                                                         — Mary Oliver

How I have craved 
the lavender of your laughter,
the wisteria of your weariness 
when you lay your jacket aside,
done as is the day ...

and then you come to me.

How you have saved me
from clinging vines of chaos,
from numb emptiness of stars 
too long dead, their light lingering
as an afterthought, a cold memory.

Your music wrapped each chord around me,
a comfort in darkness, a smile I could not see,
a gleaming jewel waiting only for sunlight
to describe its edges, its facets, its dominions;
we are created from stone and fire, 
composed of water and air ...

and then I come to you.

Friday, July 18, 2014

Substance and Clarity (Inspired by Emily Dickinson)

Birds know my secret name, but do not tell —
butterflies follow me at a distance, circling
as I stroll in silent reverie, instinct guiding me 
as crickets keep cadence with my steps.

Beneath quietly fading stars, echoes resonate — 
it was here, somewhere inside this dream, 
Hope found me kneeling in depths of night. 

Gentle hands touched my face,
brushed hair tenderly from downcast eyes
then unveiled the purity of Faith.

Together, we discovered strength in Solitude,
whispered of Truth and its Beauty, 
Beauty and its Truth. 

Wings need not be woven with glistening feathers 
so we might rise, immersed in Grace, to be adrift 
within unmeasured moments, to reveal the breadth 
of a breathless landscape — to understand, to acknowledge — 
the sanctity, the serenity of Home.

Author note: 

Inspired by Emily Dickinson's poem (#314) beginning with the line,
"Hope" is the thing with feathers"