I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and listening: listening to Jesus, listening to other people, and listening to my own heart. My brain has synthesized the things I’ve heard into three poems written over the past few days. I’d like to share them with you here and hope that they will bless you in some way.
One: “That Seed Persevered”
Sweet sixteen and summer breezes
Blow where Leslie walks the road from Grandma’s house
To a well-worn wooden church,
A preacher to hear, new thoughts to
Know. Later, she is pondering
The message when Hunter draws her near
And whispers, “Trust me.” Why shouldn’t she,
Even if she’s only known him
For a month? Certainly he knows best,
Being 10 years older
And promising beautiful things…
Morning comes — but he is gone —
Leaving behind a broken girl who will now carry and
Bear his son.
And seeds are snatched from soil.
Twenty-two and autumn rains
Skitter where Leslie walks the road from Bus 19’s stop
To a giant, thriving factory,
A friend to work beside, old thoughts to
Remember. Later, she is digesting
The message when a voice draws her near
And whispers, “Trust Me.” And she does —
Like she’s never trusted anyone before (because
She sees she didn’t really know what it was
To know someone trustworthy —
Besides Grandma, that is)…
And she is overjoyed — until her son is stripped away —
Given by the court to his long-absent,
Only-when-convenient father.
And sprouted seeds wither.
Thirty-one and winter storms
Descend where Leslie walks the road from Ricker Bar
To a dank, notorious motel,
A stranger to meet, former thoughts to
Ignore. Later, she can no longer silence
The message when distant memories draw her near
And whisper, “Trust Me.” How can she —
Girl turned into woman of desperate means,
Trapped in a place-body-world she hates
But does not have a way — or the strength —
To escape? But she tries — truly she does — to believe
And she lasts a whole week until
The maddening craving returns.
And thorns choke her soul.
Thirty-eight and spring blossoms
Accessorize where Leslie walks the road from Bee’s Therapy Office
To a tiny white house of her own,
A quiet meal to prepare, amazing thoughts to
Recall. Later, she again welcomes
The message when her Heart’s Love draws her near
And whispers, “Trust Me.” And she does —
Yet she also pleads again for the only thing
She still desires — though she feels she has no right
To ask for more than has already
Been restored to her. Then…
The doorbell sounds. And a boy-turned-man in uniform,
So long lost to her, steps back into
Her home, her arms, her life.
And vibrant green stalks thrive.
Two: Miss Camille (the Spinster) Reflects on Life with Lists
1) Things that Look Fragile but are Really Strong
Trust
Tested love
Carbon as diamonds
A soldier’s tent
Fiberglass
A silkworm’s thread
My heart
2) Things that Look Strong but are Really Fragile
Lines of Communication
First love
Carbon as coal
A soldier’s soul
Annealed glass
A spider’s web
My heart
Three: Entrusted
Of all the pieces in my shop,
My favorite is a howlite vase.
It’s asymmetric at the top,
And wears a pattern so distinct.
Displayed for years – for decades – here,
It’s never seemed to show its age
To viewers, through the glass so clear,
Who come seeking a gift “unique.”
(It has been stolen more than once –
Each thief left scratches deep inside –
But, in each instance, I gave much
To track it down and bring it back.
I washed it out and took great pains
To flush the fissures full of lies,
Then set it on display again:
A perfect buyer to attract.)
They walk along and fix their eyes
Upon its graceful, curving form,
And I cannot disguise my pride
When they request to test its weight.
For when they do, they always find
Its density is not the norm:
A craftsmanship of wondrous kind,
A worth beyond its outer face.
But they are puzzled to behold
No price tag hanging on the case.
Nor do they like it when they’re told
It will be sold once and for all
On very special, certain terms:
That they must hold it every day
Close to their heart so they can learn
To treasure gems in vessels small.
One day he comes – for whom I’ve watched –
He sees, and thinks while lifting it –
Then whispers, “This is what I’ve sought.
And your terms shall not burden me,
For I can tell, already, how
I will be blessed to care for this.
Its goodness will be harnessed now
To craft the man I’m meant to be.”
Comments are closed.