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| Yosemite, 2006 |
what did I see to be except myself
i made it up
here on this bridge between
starshine and clay
from Lucille Clifton's poem, won't you celebrate with me
Sometimes the urge to joke to be offhand is not right, too easy.
Deflection is not honest.
I am struggling.
If I were a pray-er the verb not the noun I'd be on my knees.
If I were a prayer the noun not the verb, you could write me down in tiny script.
a slip of paper in a bottle floating, a bit of fuzz a seed,
your wish, blur, blow.
How could you NOT be struggling? Sending a big hug.
ReplyDeleteOh, my dear. I feel it. Breathing in--and exhaling love in your direction.
ReplyDeleteI am wishing hard, dear Elizabeth.
ReplyDeleteMay your prayers be thus:
ReplyDeleteYes, yes, yes.
You are loved.
Sending love, dear Elizabeth. You are in my thoughts and in my heart.
ReplyDeleteSending hugs. Take care woman.
ReplyDeleteHolding space for you. I will be the bottle, you can be the slip of paper. We can bob up and down on the sea in the warm sunshine for as long as you like.
ReplyDeleteLove.
Dear friend...sending love and prayers for whatever you most need, moment by moment.
ReplyDeleteYou're doing what artists do, making something evocative from your struggles. I wish I could make it easier, but I suspect your poetry does that, or at least helps a little.
ReplyDelete