Posted in Uncategorized, tagged ferocity, praise, self awareness, wind on November 18, 2020| Leave a Comment »
Today when the wind
wrests branches from trees,
cartwheels the watering can
snatches my peace,
I search in me
for a way to praise it,
praise a force strong enough
to rip trees from the earth,
push a ship cross the sea,
and shred what I think I know.
There is in me
a vehement storm
that I have tamed
for fifty years.
Is it any wonder
the wind makes me nervous—
not that I don’t know
how to relate to it,
but oh, because
I do.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged courage, ferocity, glove, poem, poetry on November 16, 2016| 1 Comment »
The maker of gloves
is busy now. She knows
there are many hands
to sheath, much weeding
to be done. All the paths
of the garden are overrun
by brambles. The fountains
are covered in thorns.
The disarray didn’t happen overnight,
but in our present haste
to make things quickly right,
we’ve arrived with eager hands bare
and now they are bleeding, numb.
Attuned only to beauty,
how tender we’ve let
our hands become.
The maker of gloves
does not waste any time
tsk tsking. She starts
right in on her knitting,
infusing each stitch
with courage, ferocity.
Do not be surprised
when her gloves
arrive at your door.
Slip them on. They are
not for ornament.
She has made
them so you will feel
invincible. It’s not true,
but you must believe it.
The time for hard work has come.