I just want something
I can hang my hat on, she said.
But the mortarboard didn’t hang on education.
The government’s white wig fell off.
The tiara slipped from beauty.
The skullcap blew off the church.
No hat she hung could stay.
The ball cap fell off the firm body.
Art couldn’t keep the beret.
Even the mesh net
of the beekeeper’s wide brim
fell away, fell away, it all falls away.
Which is to say nothing stays.
Not the dodo. Not the dino.
Not the houses we live in.
Not our firm young skin.
Not a father, not a son.
Not sunshine. Not rain.
Not empires. Not cats.
Not the first crushing fist of heartbreak.
Not nightmares. Not bruises.
Not hats.
She let herself drift
in what was left, her head bare,
hands empty, heart open,
eyes wide. The sun stroked
her shoulder. She breathed in
the musky scent that arrives
on the wind just before spring.
Nothing was certain. She stood alone
at the edge of every possible thing
no hat in hand, and listened
to the chickadee sing.
Posts Tagged ‘certainty’
After Talking About Vulnerability
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged certainty, hats, loss, vulnerability on February 25, 2024| 6 Comments »
Getting to I Don’t Know
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged certainty, prayer, uncertainty on September 20, 2022| 9 Comments »
Sometimes, too certain I know what love is,
I miss love.
It’s like thinking water is waves,
not seeing water is also the depths of ocean,
the muscle of river, the body, the air,
ice, snow, fog, clouds, mist.
Sometimes, longing to hear certain words,
I neglect to hear the words that are spoken.
Or craving a certain touch, I disregard
all other touch, and my skin believes it is starving.
There is beauty beyond beauty, love beyond love,
opening beyond opening, an apple inside apple.
Let my prayer be I don’t know.
Let me find the door inside the door,
the glimmer inside the glimmer,
the human inside this woman.
The god inside of god.
The Lover of Uncertainty Confesses
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged bird, certainty, uncertainty on April 19, 2021| 2 Comments »
Certainty is a frigatebird,
able to soar on the wind for weeks,
its nest a distant thing.
Is it wrong to say I admire it,
sleek and raven feathered,
how it dives from the sky
with exquisite precision,
how it steals what it wants
with no regard for what’s fair.
I have wanted to be that certain,
wanted to take, wanted to believe
my hunger is all that matters.
Is it wrong to notice these thoughts,
to give voice to their midnight wings?
I say I trust what I don’t know.
Meanwhile, I flirt with certainty.
It whispers to me,
I’m the other truest thing.
Bindweed in the Garden
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged bindweed, certainty, garden, stubbornness on July 25, 2020| 2 Comments »
All summer it’s been twisting and winding,
twining around sunflowers,
stretching across pathways,
climbing the pea vines and the tall wire fence.
If there is a fairy godmother of flowers,
she must have said to the bindweed,
“I bless you with tenacity.” And forever since,
it has lived up to her generosity.
Why do I curse it for its persistence,
when I, myself, have made a life out of stubbornness?
Oh foolish woman who longs for beauty,
but pulls the bindweed before it is beautiful,
before its pale pink flowers open to morning
delicate as certainty.
Off the Path
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged certainty, journey, path, poem, poetry on July 26, 2019| 4 Comments »
On the path, I am the one
who forgets to look up—
the one who doesn’t see the mountain
because I am focused on the path.
I am the one who fears the dead end,
who worries and obsesses about it,
only to discover it wasn’t an end at all,
just a sharp turn, and the path goes on.
I am the one who fears she’s not good enough
for this path, who wonders if there’s another path
somewhere that I am supposed to be on.
Everyone else seems to know where they’re going.
I can’t even seem to spot the signs.
Confused, I stop, which allows me
to notice the weeds gone to seed,
notice their tiny white globes, notice
how good it feels to stop
and notice them. I am the one who
cares so much about the path and still
fails at staying on it. In fact,
the more I pay attention, the more
I am the one who forgets there is a path.
On the Road to Shambala
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged being right, being wrong, certainty, poem, poetry, self acceptance on January 31, 2019| 8 Comments »
Today yet another chance to notice
how often I am wrong. How easily
my voice puts on its business suit
and power pumps and exudes confidence—
how sure I am that I am right! And then,
when confronted with the real truth, what to do
but laugh at the self who just moments ago
was strutting and certain and bold.
What a relief to kick off the shoes
and let the self run barefoot through the afternoon,
ditching her dress, letting the world
laugh at her, holes in her stockings,
holes in her conviction, shoulders
bare and exposed. Feel how the breeze
rushes in through the open door,
carries with it the song of red-wing blackbirds,
touches everything like relief, like
a song about journeys, like forgiveness.
How to Let Go of Being Right (When You’re Sure You’re Right, But So Is The Other Person)
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged certainty, letting go, poem, poetry on November 8, 2018| Leave a Comment »
As summer leans into the fall,
as sunflowers that lose all
their petals—though it takes
some time. As rhyme
that slips toward normal speech.
As evening drifting toward the night.
And when you’re really sure
you’re right, let go as snow evaporates,
as puddles dry, as clouds
disperse, as waves unwave,
as light rehearses shadow.
And if you’re still sold
you are right, then practice
quietude. Like dirt. Like
bark. Like pearl. Like grass.
Like the moon, so dark, so new.
About Conviction
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged certainty, conviction, nature, poem, poetry, unknowing on October 25, 2018| Leave a Comment »
So much to learn from the fallen leaves,
the barren trees, the still green moss,
the skittish deer, the unturned stone,
the smooth gray limbs of loss,
fog hung like garland in the woods,
a secret spring, the brittle grass,
the yet unfurling truth in us,
the path that forgets it’s a path.
One Authority
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged book, certainty, poem, poetry on March 23, 2018| Leave a Comment »
After Playing on the Parent Team in the Mathlete Olympiad
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged certainty, math, poem, poetry on June 2, 2017| Leave a Comment »
Odd joy in the pink eraser rubbings,
joy in the silence just after the timer says start,
joy in the turning of the inner cogs
and the way that the numbers
sprint across the page,
joy in the scratch of the pencil, the stumble
of confidence, in the scrapping of the route
so that a new route can emerge,
joy in arriving at an answer,
an answer so certain you can label it
with units and circle it and know
that tomorrow it would turn out
the same way again, not like any
other part of your life.