At the End You May Find

Sorry this one's kind of a downer. It doesn't reflect any recent tragedy; it's just something I've been trying to write for a while.

At the end you may find
the path is longer than expected.
You delve the wood
and with each turn expect to see 
a termination: something final to untether you
from him or her with grace. But the way winds on,
and though that cord is also precious, 
more than you can bear to simply sever or unlace,
these old trees have held you both 
too long on a narrow trail,
no turning back, no stopping place,
and only God is limitless,
and He will not retrace.
It is not your fault if you secretly long
for a clearing or the sea to tell you
here you stop, no more to this race;
and when the end surprises you
as it may, in a hard and unsuspected space,
you will measure the depth of your loss and love
by the clangor of your solitude
and the bitter loneliness of freedom
burning on your face.

February 24 2010

First Earrings

Another minor milestone passed.
She clenched her teeth and saw it through.
You cried; you held your breath;
I gave you quarters in the mall
to turn your thoughts to plastic pigs
and bubblegum, which conquer all,
and then we stopped for cookies.

The shock is sharp, but fast.
For all of us, it lingers;
but this strong wisdom I have learned from her: 
Fear no future earrings, for in the aftermath,
though you are taken farther from your birth
and me, a person even more like you is born 
with greater grace, to walk a greater path.

February 24 2010

In a Dream of Family

In a dream of family made real
we passed the woods and streams reblanketed
beyond the windshield wall.
Slowly as we turned
the song rejoined us all
and the children in the back seat 
sang sweet hallelujah.

February 22 2011

After Last Christmas

That might have been the last time you believed
and if it was
about the only thing that I can say
through tears that you will never see I hope
is welcome 
to the life for which your life till now
was practice,
and may you find your new belief
sooner than I who had to wait
for you.

February 16 2011

It Is Possible to See

It is possible to see
in the sunlight on this yellow grass
a miniature of Spring.
The sight of sodden earth revives
an old anticipation.
Remembering Eliot and the date
we keep our expectations low,
but neither can nor will suppress
the thought that somehow sometime soon
something green may grow.

February 12 2010

The World Is Drawn on Paper

The world is drawn on paper;
things are the exception, not the rule.
Those few that remain are skeletal,
the hidden framework of the world revealed.
It is a flattened field in grey and black and white
stretched and speaking silent only of necessity.
Then from this second-story vantage point
I hear a silver bell redemption
see the clarity of its perfect note
filtered through the leafless trees across the street
carried swiftly on the crystal air past
the last few snowflakes made dimensional by
and dancing slowly down
the sudden yellow light from a sudden blinding sun.

February 4 2011