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Posts Tagged ‘jude Janett’

 

            for Jude Janett

 

 

All day, I replay these words:

Is this the path of love?

I think of them as I rise, as

I wake my children, as I wash dishes,

as I drive too close behind the slow

blue Subaru, Is this the path of love?

Think of them as I stand in line

at the grocery store,

think of them as I sit on the couch

with my daughter. Amazing how

quickly six words become compass,

the new lens through which to see myself

in the world. I notice what the question is not.

Not, “Is this right?” Not,

“Is this wrong?” It just longs to know

how the action of existence

links us to the path to love.

And is it this? Is it this? All day,

I let myself be led by the question.

All day I let myself not be too certain

of the answer. Is it this? I ask as I

argue with my son. Is it this? I ask

as I wait for the next word to come.

 

 

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            for Jude Janett

 

 

It was cold,

and so

when she said

 

I am not

a poet,

I mean

I write them,

but only

to survive—

I don’t think

I even

like poems

 

I watched

as her words

turned to mist

in the air,

swirling

transparent lines

that danced

before they

disappeared,

 

and

I knew

there was

never

a poet

more true.

 

 

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—for Jude Janett

You sing, and even
nine hundred miles away
all of my body
turns to ears—
and the ears of my
eyes and the ears
of my gut and
the ears of my ears
all sprout legs and
start dancing in awkward,
ecstatic and awe-drenched hallelujahs,
and I may be broken
and I am a mess but I
am dancing under
your pulpit, keep singing,
I am listening
to your shining
pounding rests.

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