musings on spring {1}

backyard cherry tree . march 2011

curled tightly inward
it is a specific sort of waiting
listening to the consistent smattering of rain
then robin's arrival 
(a lone trumpet on the stage)

she seeks the light

in the quiet, she

at the edge...

gearhart, oregon . august 11, 2010

a few weeks ago, i mentioned that i spent time standing alone at the edge of the ocean, releasing some things out into the world. the following poem note of sorts is a glimpse into that experience. all lines of poetry mentioned in this post are from mary oliver's collection of poetry in Red Bird.

*****

I stood at the edge of the push and the pull, my feet sinking in the wet sand, my heart’s strings attempting to weave together so that they did not lose their grip, so I would not lose my grip.

I stood at the edge as the rain wound her way from the grey to the strands of my hair, pooling in my turned up cuffs.

I stood at the edge and opened a way to navigate this path disguised as a book of poetry.

I stood at the edge and read…

 

“Let the world

have its way with you…”*

 

As the rain wound her way from the grey to fuse with the crashing and the pushing and the pulling, I stood alone at the edge with salt water winding its way from my eyes to merge with the pools of water beneath, on, around me, and I stood watching or was it feeling the crashing and the pushing and the pulling. I stood watching and began to wonder if the strings holding my heart, me, were disentangling with each breath filled with fear. I stood at the edge and began to read aloud…

 

“…there is

always grief more than enough,

a heart-load for each of us

on the dusty road…”**

 

As the rain wound her way from the grey to my lowered, rounded self, my voice began to duel with the crashing and the pulling until the rhythm began a dance with the fear and the hope. The water dripped across the page, pooling at the center as I stood at the edge of the pushing and the pulling until these words became my repeated rhythm…

 

“…put your lips to the world.

And live,

your life.”***

 

I stood at the edge, my heart’s strings weaving the spaces between each crack as the rain raced toward the center, my eyes stinging with the salt and the fear and all that I hoped would not be. I stood at the edge of the push and the pull and the crashing of all that is not supposed to be and heard you…

 

“…and this is why I have been sent, to teach this to your heart.”****

 

My eyes blurred with the truth and the fear and the hope as I stood at the edge of the crashing and pushing and pulling. As the rain pooled around me, inside me, I stood at the edge as her words found their way to the cracks, and I began to speak aloud the prayer said by so many (by all) before me…

 

Please

Please

Please

*from “Summer Morning”

**from “Ocean”

***from “Mornings at Blackwater”

****from “Red Bird Explains Himself”

patience (postcard poetry)

::by post:: (august 13, 2010)

(front)

smooth dark wet sand for miles as one woman stands, her face toward the twisting tumbling heart-opening ocean, her arms reaching toward the sky.

(back)

this
is
where
i
hear
my
song 

*****

::By Post:: is a collaborative series of virtual postcards posted between Jenna and me, conceived to celebrate the week we're spending on opposite coasts of the country (Jenna on Nantucket, me in Oregon). Visit Jenna's blog to read hers. See other posts in this series here.

::by post:: (august 12, 2010)

*****

::By Post:: is a collaborative series of virtual postcards posted between Jenna and me, conceived to celebrate the week we're spending on opposite coasts of the country (Jenna on Nantucket, me in Oregon). Visit Jenna's blog to read hers. See other posts in this series here.

::by post:: (august 11, 2010)

(front)

(back)

one day she realized,
to find her way to center,
(some days)
she must let go of looking for speed bumps
and fears
and coulds
and what ifs.
one day she realized,
to find her way to holding on,
(some days)
she must look up. 

*****

::By Post:: is a collaborative series of virtual postcards posted between Jenna and me, conceived to celebrate the week we're spending on opposite coasts of the country (Jenna on Nantucket, me in Oregon). Visit Jenna's blog to read hers. See other posts in this series here.