Poetry
You came to me
the day you died
But, not to say goodbye
No
To ask me
simply
to remember.
there are joyful seeds
planted
before the rain.
and I sit
in wonder
of joy
while all I can do
is smell the storm.
I understand
rain feeds growth
But,
I cannot find the place
in me that
knows this.
I struggle to know.
And,
I know
that if I would only
cease the struggle,
the knowing would follow.
“I HEAR America singing, the varied carols I hear;
Those of mechanics—each one singing his, as it should be, blithe and strong;
The carpenter singing his, as he measures his plank or beam,
The mason singing his, as he makes ready for work, or leaves off work;
The boatman singing what belongs to him in his boat—the deckhand singing on the steamboat deck;
The shoemaker singing as he sits on his bench—the hatter singing as he stands;
The wood-cutter’s song—the ploughboy’s, on his way in the morning, or at the noon intermission, or at sundown;
upon waking
with the warm glow
of you
utterly present
i sigh
a smile.
still listening
to your eyes
and
all their stories
that i wait to know.
breathe
slowly
in stillness.
and feel
the air
cool
and slow
linger within.
I woke up this morning
to the silence.
It was open
and warm
with the memory
of yesterday.
Filled
with thoughts of you
for me
to linger
upon.
Please
never doubt
that your smile
can inspire words
as graceful as these.
For
even the ghost
of your presence
smells warm
like spring.
And
dreams me of May
when you and I
can know each other
among the flowers.
Take a walk with me
through water
falling
and puddled beneath our feet
and laugh
word with me
as we
spend time
remembering each other
together
our words
will paint pictures
in oils and chalk
that the water from above
will spread to every corner
of the sidewalk
and make it ours
together.
How have you captured
my dreaming thoughts
so clearly
and
so soon?
Already
I smile
at the thought of you.
within
the moment of rain
the sound
the crack
and splat
the sound expands
and washes across the noise
cleansing the street of traffic
and
conversation
months are peeled away
revealing
the ever-present
beneath
