Here’s the beautiful thing about
this dream we live together across
time, space, generations
(you do realize it’s all a dream, don’t you?)
we hold souvenirs from our trips and don’t realize it:
a ring that i wear,
and you wore, and she wore,
before another wore,
i don’t know what it looked like but
i assume we all have the same
long fingers thin to set it.
a framed sketch of Young Eve,
an antique chair (i reupholstered in green)
how i feel us all sit down at once
with our dreamy books perfuming our small room,
together slipping away in revelries
specific to our own moments in time.
isn’t it amazing to travel infinitely this way,
and others will join us later too,
Come along now~
honeysuckle vine trailing
magically across my nose
intricately mixes with fresh grass
feeding greedily on
subtle hints of afternoon storms. My
window is down, my left arm is
surfing air, sun hot on my cheek,
so quick I am again a fresh new driver
heading to the pool,
free, oh so free.
the sun to change its course. everyone knows
the east wins the morning,
west dictates the night.
don’t pine for a
brand new shirt, or a new
route home. don’t beg to erase lines,
they are carbon-dated.
(next day, sun rises)
my father and mother know this. my sister too.
a small child shakes her head with a laugh,
(next day, sun rises)
loves his spots; he sits smugly in his tree,
licking a paw absently.
everyone knows this.
I hope you enjoy the following poem by my great-grandmother Alice B. Johnson (taken from her book, Where Children Live, 1958)
I cannot see the brown earth turned
Upon white petals gently blown
Upon the ground where I should spade
My garden plot. Have I not learned
I must not waste one precious day
Of spring? Somehow it will not stay
And wait for seeds that should be sown –
Why MUST I let my heart be swayed
By fallen petals of yesterday –
Why can’t they gently blow away?
Hi readers! Thought it might be a good time to let you in on a little secret (that you surely guessed by now) – I’m not a full-time poet! Ha! I’m actually in marketing and I’ll be speaking at Tuesday’s Inbound Marketing Week panel in Baltimore. If you’re in the area, I would love to meet you. Take care~ j
Have you ever looked so closely at your hand that you lose all sense of place and self? Try it now… what do you see? Have you ever seen your own skin this way before?
Discovering My Own Hand
At one time i didn’t exist
except in dreams of woman and man,
(mom and dad!)
yet now, i am here,
setting out free from such
long arm – trekking through
unfamiliar terrain to a
sharp rising range of arteries
quiet rivulets of blue. These appear suddenly,
silken, subtle, like glacier waters
ancient below thin cave walls.
Looking closer, there is a cobbled road,
a patchwork of steps leading north.
Like Frost, i take this lesser way,
crevasses deepened by time,
small hairs, delicate like seaweed,
to venture finally to such rosy
oyster-shell pearl plains.
Here, i take my rest, grateful for the journey,
feeling night’s gentle breeze
like breath from my folks.