Because Of You

 

Because of you I’m talking to crickets, clouds,
like a madwoman with thistles braided in her hair
a band of daisies round her waist, forget-me-nots
between her toes.

Because of you I laugh with lady beetles scurrying
on their way to drink a draught of nectar wine
in hopes of intoxicated stories shared.

Because of you I plant sweet peas that trace
a lacy frame girdling my womb and blue delphiniums
reach the sky becoming our lure to ladder up
and disappear into Arcadian azure.

Because of you I will go mad with lavender sprigs as
arrows to my heart, lemon balm to soothe my wounds,
and spearmint tea to bring the night of moonflowers
as our bed.

Because of you I am possessed by the marrow of creation.

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Author’s Note:

Our writing group met this morning on my deck among the flowers and bees and squirrels. We each chose at random an Every Day Poems from Tweetspeak Poetry and wrote. I am the only one who writes poetry, the others have their own genres and styles. It was lovely and perfect and the writing incredible.

My poem was Delphiniums In A Window Box by Dean Young, author of Fall Higher. I used the line:…because of you I’m talking to crickets, clouds….

Woman Found

I dive into myself to find the woman lost.
Deep within I open space to meet
the beautiful one hidden away.

No longer afraid, knowing I am brilliance
I rest in myself. In deep open space
we are One whirling around the Universe.

Emanuel, A Lament

Water flows under our feet, beneath
asphalt and top soil, far from the sea.

It makes its own way when rains come,
sinks into the crust below concrete
and sidewalks that seem impenetrable.

They are not.

Cracks and crevices wink at water flowing
down from above teasing it into the measure
below our sure footing.

As we sleep water cuts its own path.
Filters through minerals and sand,
ancient pumice and clay. Finding its way
to where it will pool to wait for more
or dry up unused.

The man from the water department
told us this, assured us there was no worry.
He brushed it off as if it didn’t matter, told us
not to pay attention, forget about it.

Fear draws a path deep within, settling
where it chooses only to rise up in choler
from our crusted selves hardened by
complacency. It swells to force its way
to the surface exposing our slant
of “those people” of “them”
gushes out to swallow all,
us and them.

Rather, I would stand naked under
the downpour of lament, tears
from gaping heaven. Allow it
to wash away pain, rushing it down
sewers to make its way, far away,
out to sea.

Mixed with salt water, my tears and sin
carried away, dispersed into the vastness
of forgiveness leaving me bare, vulnerable,
ready to start over clean and new, able
to see clearly in my nakedness,
our nakedness.

We are birthed by the same Creator,
a tender Sculptor, gentle hands,
whose tears of grief, given as gift,
make us new.

Quivering

In your Word
I understand myself.

A gull in flight
quivering above water,
but so deep your
fathoms I have
yet to comprehend.

I place myself
within your meter,
ride images drawn
with master precision.

Your voice sings
to me in silence,
a melody rising
through forest arms,
trembling leaves
and wisps of being.

I exhale. Your word in
stillness lavished.

Flight

 

I came to you fragile,
in your gentleness and wisdom
you led me through the maze
to find my power.

Holding up a mirror,
a frightening proposition,
I now can see what you saw,
not a sinner, but a beloved.

You taught me
that I don’t need to
earn my spot, my name,
a piece of paper of importance.

I am loved,
you see it in us all,
lift us up in our gifts,
give us wings to fly.

I now hold the
mirror for you,
be the one you were
named to be, we hold
one another in Light,
we bless each other’s flight.