Was I just riding skies
instead of seas--
Sadness and gladness are cruel
sirens, crossing countries
with me, waiting
near the cave that is my mind.
Do you hear me? Hear me!
Bear me forward.
I hymn you in the old ways
drowsily exhaling light
breaking like the day.
maybe something something being in community
about being connected and continuing
About holding my arms out like a tree even when empty
(stop that!) about sending all my pain to the sea,
where it's already salty
By day I will read something lofty, edifying, clear
At night, I will watch stars that seem cold
and know they're really quite fiery
Alert with my intention, my asylum of inattention
I sling myself to beauty, ignore summer's
pillows smattered with snow
Please hold my head as gently
as a bomb labeled 'headache'
knowing the earth is waiting
feeding time under the loam
who is it who knocked on the door (we didn't hear)
who is it who wants to come in (we can't really see)
howling into the cusp, dreams away from disaster
learning the circuitry of sadness, the lineage of loss
For in a different world
I lost many months ago
my tongue a tombstone
fingers clawing worms
(These human babies and also the two puppy babies asking for scraps by my side.)
Our governor has mandated no in-person classes from tomorrow as part of our three-week "pause" anyway.
The one thing the pandemic has given me is bonus time with my first-born. And also, somehow--the time and desire to disappear into a long, hot bath.
Off to Grand Rapids today to visit the #1 Sculpture Park in the USA (are there others?) and then dinner at a friend's place until late a...
