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Posts Tagged ‘clarity’

Priceless

 

 

moments of clarity

strung like pearls

with knots between them

never touching

but oh, the sweet weight

of wearing that necklace

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There is clarity in the three-hole punch,

the way it is made to receive the paper,

always the same every time.

 

How it punches the holes always

equidistant from each other. It never worries

it’s not doing its job good enough. Never

 

worries it isn’t worthy of the pages it meets.

There is clarity in the way it flexes beneath

the hand, how it does the one thing it was made

 

to do. And you, with your hand on the black

length of it, you with your thousands of choices

inside every moment, what is it that needs

 

your precision? Maybe you’re making it

too hard. Maybe it’s your turn to do

the one thing you were made to do.

 

 

 

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Here

Perhaps
these rocks
that look
like stumb-
ling blocks
are cairns,
and I
have, with
such diligence,
been kicking
them from
my way—
oh foolish
woman
who thought
that she
was lost.

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Clarity

Here’s to whatever time
it takes to have the heart it takes
once more to get there.
—William Kloefkorn, in “Poetry”

How is it I did not see it before,
this doorway I am walking toward,
I know I passed this way.

I was perhaps distracted by leaves
or more likely lost in my own dreams
but now there’s no missing it.

I can be so serious. So literal. So dense.
I like my invitations to tell me where and when
and what I might expect.

But here it is. The door. Small and getting smaller.
And if I do walk through the door, will there be another?
The mind it wants to know.

But the soul, the soul is more like light
that leaks through whatever cracks it finds
not caring where it arrives.

It does not knock, would stream on through,
though the mind puts on its leaden shoes
and insists on having a map.

And oh god, here I am under the lintel—
perhaps its less door and more of a tunnel—
how long, how long will it take

and can I go back? Can we ever go back?
And why and why am I scared? I think
I know something, I think

too much. I think I should not think any more.
The facts: a woman. This moment. Sunflowers.
Lead shoes. Light. An open door.

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