For You, for Always

My life changed last night,
altered for always
by what you’re sharing now, in these hours,
with so many like me
who want you laughing
and living your sailor’s dream, the one
we’ve all tasted
like sweet
contraband
through
you.
 

What to think and feel
of the news you’re bringing,
and how you’re bringing it,
with such sleight of hand, focus,
and grace,
as you proclaim a celebration
of family, friendship,
and new music!
Yes. We’ll create a way through tonight
and tomorrow,
for you, for all of us,
for someday.
For always.
 
 

Meditation

Morning light is pure, outside
and in, first thoughts clear,
like little bells

or a mellow voice;
remnants of dreams
and deep night concerns

tease, call, or jump
up and down from the edges
of tender, rigorous,

pregnant
silence.
Goodness.
 
 

Feeling My Way

I’m dreaming, on a staircase
streaking up to the sky. It climbs—
zigzaggy smile on building’s face—
to multi-story height, but I’m

clear that, two-thirds up, its stair steps
stop. The middle breaks apart,
and rails and runged side-caps
just support clean air on which to plant

my feet. Despite this part, I’m up
there, foot, step, foot, right to the spot
where a fall into blue will interrupt
or be the flow that’s next if that’s what

I choose. I step, foot, step, foot, down,
zigzagging toward green ground.
 
 

Relishing exquisiteness, with thanks

I began my relatively, blessedly unstructured morning in a way that I love, seeing what intriguing things have come my way via email before getting out of bed. On Saturdays and Sundays I’ll loll for an hour or more under the covers with my phone, reading, browsing, listening… ahhhhh, the delights of modern “wool-gathering”, an evocative term I learned from my husband Kevin, a stalwart lad of ancient Irish origin.

During my lazy-day meanderings, a revelation came to me from the Poetry Foundation‘s daily offering: I lingered over Robert Wrigley’s exquisite Earthly Meditations, then slaked my sudden thirst for more by exploring his bio, additional poems, and an article, all on the foundation’s scholarly yet accessible site. Then I shot off two emails, one to thank them for introducing me to Robert Wrigley—I’ll definitely need more of that voice in my ear—and the other in thanks for today’s gorgeous daily audio poem post, Misery and Splendor, by Robert Haas.

Feed your soul by pausing to experience both pieces. Let these unexpected gifts, like fine wine and fare that you hadn’t planned for and did nothing to earn, enrich your day or night in a few free moments. Each is sustenance that you won’t forget. And thank you again, Poetry Foundation, for your nourishing work in the world!