The Interconnection of Being

At three, he’s aware of no

division, calling up the

buffleheads on my computer

for a close-up of tiny ducks

far out on the lake.  Not just black

and white, their iridescent heads

like poems to color.

He greets them, frustrated

by my inability

to establish

a FaceTime connection

with these cousins.

He has no armor,

open, empty

here to enjoy

the ride and I bail

furious and surreptitious,

dipping and throwing

discolored clouds of

beliefs as fast as they

bubble up on our way.

In the dark, we trace

the dim light

of constellations

resonating to a calling

heart songs

carrying us through

this living water.

Inspired by Empty, Armor, Division and Bail.  Photo credit: hhltmaine.org.

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The Magic Eye

The rush-hour drive transformed, we approach

from the march that protects the magical

forest I inhabit.  Closer we creep

and the skyline’s a mystery.

I’ve never seen these fantastical

castles he counts, six, seven, eight!

Eight, shouting and there must

be dragons.  I’m driving; it’s cloudy,

but he can see these radiant beings

with the superpowers his great

grandmother sewed into his cape.

How to appease a sad boy

whose genuine entreaties are ignored?

Please come.  I offer a large crow

but suddenly the enchanted

creature is in the back seat.

His name is Jerry and he’s friendly

so the chances he’ll scorch us

are slim.  Turn this way, my storyteller

directs, but I’m in the wrong lane

and he’s on his way home.

We leave the skyscrapers

to their work opening up the realms

of newness reserved for the most brilliant

stars among us, here to remind

and include all things lovely

curious and highly improbable.

When I drive home later, alone

in this new landscape, my sight

changes, the noose of reality

loosens and I can’t stop grinning.

 

Inspired by: Radiant, March, Fantastical and Appease.

What’s At Stake

The practical mathematics we explore

look suspiciously like witchcraft.

Silver-locked grandmothers dancing

around the family tree

measuring with diametric

precision while praising

the infinite always get a

bad rap from the likes of Big

Pharma.  Unmedicated, noncompliant

so he can learn the burning

love triangle, child and parents,

the long chains of ancestors

as visible as smoke

I teach him to see.

We both devour these moments

fully present in the is-ness

emerging

to be seen and celebrated

in the fullness we give each

other in these flames.

Inspired by:  Chain, Diametric, Infinite and Devour.

Thread and Thrum

We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. ~ Martin Luther King, Jr.

I’m ecstatic at his arrival

flinging wide the door

dancing as I peer into the car.

Released from the restraints

of his carseat, he is running

to leap into my arms — all 35 pounds of

sturdy love, a kiss, a fierce hug,

I missed you too, he sings.

It’s been two days

since he last flourished

under my watchful eyes.

Today we tuck a geode

into a secret pocket, a rock

in a heart pillow,

very much alive, receptive

to the waves of love

we conjure to bless

the ducks, the kissed trees,

the leaves swirling through

the celebrated breeze.

I guess later in his life

he might look back

and see how weird

his witchy grandmother can be,

but right now we are creating

a new world of mutuality

weaving these sacred

bonds alive together.

 

Inspired by: Ecstatic, Rock, Watchful and Guess.

I Ought To Be Committed

I hereby relinquish my claim

to someday, that nebulous

dream that keeps me in thrall.

I commit to the pleasure

of this morsel, closing my

eyes in ecstasy,

relish the finite bite

of now.  I’ve missed so much

nourishment, lost to pages

and shows, words and sounds

that false security

shielding me from the very real

dangers of this exquisite

moment.  Here now

I run like a three-year-old

to kiss a tree,

laughing at the branch

caught in my hat.

I spread myself out

as an offering to this ancient

dog to sniff, tail wagging,

saying, I love you, too,

hosting the planet

as I learn

to savor

anew.

Inspired by Commit, Finite, Security and Someday.

Up And Up

~ Dedicated to my grandmother MKW on her birthday 21 February 1907.

I seldomly leave my dreams

to see the moon blessing branches

bold play in the early morning.

Today I rise, wan and stumbling

out into the early dawn.

A songbird heralds spring.

These magnolia buds are lit

determination to grow.

The bankruptcy of winter

ominous and threatening

is loosening its nightmare.

It’s never too late to begin.

Again the seeds have

cracked in the dark,

rooting and stretching

to this new light

finally

undermine the poverty

of this frigid season.

 

 

 

Inspired by:  Bankruptcy, Seldomly, Undermine and Wan.

The Tree of Life

i carry your heart with me (i carry it in
my heart) i am never without it (anywhere
i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing, my darling) ~ E.E. Cummings

My grandmother’s clutch

on her deathbed commands my face

too close for comfort.  I haven’t yet

realized the foundation of love

she’s constructed.

Nobody knows these words are her

last.  The day before, she was lost

in this grim institution,

howbeit I built bridges to reach her.

Grandma, do you remember

my finest hours, playing in her

four o’clocks, harvesting and planting,

delighted by the unexpected sprouts

she received as my heart-

gifts.  Spinning her collection of antique

marbles when the weather

prevented my intrepid

exploration of peach

and apple trees, magnolias and

sugar maples, the grape arbor

heavy and sweet, buzzing with bees.

Infinite patience as she taught me

botany and canning, tasting jams

and jellies as her true ghost

stories raised goosebumps.

The terrified nights of a sensitive

young child, mapping familiar

territory.  So I’m not the only one.

You remember for me, she said,

so today I am back, I’ve composed

a poem and I read it to her.

We sit in silence until her fingers

like talons bring my ear close.

I’m afraid.

I croon, oh, my darling,

this threshold you have crossed

before.  Listen to the call of love

beyond this heartbeat where

I hold you, always.  She slips

away, silent as the others finally

gather, watching her last breath.

 

 

 

 

Inspired by: Clutch, Howbeit, Intrepid and Sprout and my grandmother’s birthday tomorrow, 21 February 1907.