Send your words in
I want to be right with Life. I want to be on the right side of Love (and God) and give my energy to the living. I haven’t returned to the pond since the babies died, though every day I consider it. It’s the toughest Love I’ve ever mustered, and it’s killing me but it seems right.
There’s so much death in that pond, I think Bella can do better. If I show up she’ll never leave. If she didn’t have Buzz, I would be even more conflicted. I’m eternally grateful for their partnership (he so resembles William). Dear, sweet William. It’s been a year, and I miss him terribly but not like the acutely visceral beginning. Not like I am missing Maxie, like someone has kicked me in the ribs. It does get easier in time.
This, then, is my definition of poetry (I was telling a friend, I rarely post poems on Flickr, as folks don’t quite know what to make of them (they will never be formulaic, my musings). “Nice essay, story, thoughts, prose, soliloquy, verbiage”.) A poem has a mission. Words are foot soldiers, sent into sometimes awful situations, and they report back what they have found there. They prefer the fields of wild flowers, the camp fires at the beach, the stunning vista after a long climb up the mountain but they go dutifully where sent, with one criterion ~ that they are un-merci-fully honest (or why bother going?)
The Peonies are in bloom, and I can’t get enough of them. Their beauty defies words, so I won’t even ask that of them but it makes me think of how bleakly I grew up, in my parents tiny apartment. Dull and drab and ugly. Lifeless. I’ve devoted my life to Beauty, as a contradiction to those formative years. Now that I have my own home to love and care for (family, friends, pets, creatures, garden, all that comes with it), I am committed to sharing Beauty.
I was thinking of Snitty telling the police that I “threaten” her. I weigh 100 pounds and have a heart of Jello. Really? But if you’re committed to living in darkness, so much Light would disturb your mission. So more Light, then. Shine it brightly into the dark places. Send your words in to bring back the glittering jewel, found in the black muck of sorrow.
LBM 6/11/2019
