Take a step
Then another
And then another after that
Move forward not back
Be brave and blaze the trail ahead
But look both ways
There’s wisdom in the past
Look Both Ways (A Poem)
Poetry
A Sort of Love Poem
*I had planned to post a sweet song for Valentine’s Day yesterday, and then a poem today. But time got away from me yesterday, as it so often does, and well, here we are. So, here’s a sort of love poem, and a video of me singing some Gillian Welch by the fire. I hope you enjoy both! And if you’re in the US and in the line of fire – er, ice – with this latest winter storm, stay safe and warm!*
Dear Someone,
I don’t need you, but
I’d like to meet you
nonetheless.
It might be fun, Dear Someone,
to see where things could go,
but no, I’m not waiting for you.
See, I’ve got other things to do.
It’s a big universe, after all,
Dear Someone,
and who can say who meets who
and when.
Though I hope we do,
eventually, some time, someday,
maybe.
And so,
Dear Someone,
whoever you are,
if by chance we stumble across each other
at some party or in some bar,
I’m open to the possibility.
Practice Makes Perfect (A Poem)
One, two, three
Chapters
Lines
Cups of coffee
Thousand words
Not quite done
Write it down
Write it down
Work it out
Find the phrase that
Makes it perfect
Over and over
Then and now
“Time, time, time
See what’s become of…”
My work
My mind
Too much
Or much too finite
Practice, practice, practice
The difference between:
Talent
And
Mastery
Patience, patience, patience
Is a virtue
Is a struggle
Is the space between
Good
And
Great
Not there yet, but –
Almost, almost
Always almost
Forever so close
Keep it up,
Keep it up,
Keep up the fight
It’s the plight
Of the creative soul:
To make it beautiful
But know
It will never be whole
Expecting Ice
Well, here we are again, expecting winter weather – not just snow, also ice. Hopefully not as much as last time, but we’ll see.
We are supposed to get a couple of inches of snow, so I’m excited for that, at least.
I’ll be recording a podcast episode this afternoon, so I hope I get to watch it snow while I chat with my friend and we create something good. That would be nice. But again, we’ll see. (And if you want to listen to the podcast, here’s a link to it on Spotify: Better Friendships on Spotify.)
Anyway, here are a couple of things I wrote thinking about the incoming storm.
While lying in bed last night, unable to sleep, anxious about the weather:
We’re expecting ice again today.
Please just make it go away.
Not a winter wonderland,
not fun, like playing in the sand.
Just slick and heavy and dangerous.
I really hope it misses us.
And something a little more thoughtful, after my first cup of coffee:
A beautiful danger
makes slow and steady progress –
tree limbs press down and strain
against the weight of it,
as if the whole world could break.
This glistening villain,
freezing fingers and frigid breath,
holds a glinting blade behind its back
and betrays all who love the cold.
I love winter, but these ice storms are killing me. I’m still holding out hope that before the end of the season, we’ll see some snow. Fingers crossed!
Old Walls (A Poem)
Old walls
Stand strong
The test of time
It touches all
Some pieces crumble
And fall away
But the center holds
The center holds
Fast against the weight
It dares to last
The old walls
Rise from solid earth
And all around
New life brings new light
Bright again
Old walls
Tell the tale
Of many moments made one
And become part of
The halls of history
For each and all
Don’t Bet Against Me (A Poem)
When I was born
six weeks too early, too tiny,
and before I even had a name,
they took bets on whether I’d make it.
I made it.
I’ve always made it,
every moment of every day,
even when I shouldn’t have,
when I should have failed,
I’ve made it.
And I’ve made it good.
So I tell people:
Don’t bet against me.
Underestimate me and
just wait and see
what happens.
Because I made it, and I’ve made it, and I’ll make it.
I am my own hero,
my own knight in shining armor,
my own deus ex machina,
my own miracle.
I am unstoppable,
unflappable,
unembarrassed,
unashamed,
and unconcerned with those who’d doubt me.
I made it.
Even when it’s impossible (nothing’s impossible),
when it’s too dark to see (there’s always light),
when the game seems lost (life’s not a game):
Whatever you do,
don’t bet against me.
The New Year (A Poem)
The cold moon ushers in the New Year –
full of promise,
flanked by worry and doubt and fear,
but new nonetheless, and fresh and free.
May we all see dreams made real,
time and touch and love,
and may we be happy.
May we take this year and make it
what we want and need,
and may we do what we can do.
May we happen,
and not get happened to.
The New Year opens the door.
May we all walk through.
Foggy Solstice Morning
Winter begins with a promise each year:
It only gets brighter from here.
Four Snow Haiku
Delicate and slow
Snowflakes descend from gray skies
And turn the world bright
*******
In rhythm with life
Like white petals on a breeze
Fragile crystals fall
*******
Powder coats the ground
Soft like sweet icing sugar
Dessert for the eyes
*******
This new snow globe world
Brief and fleeting as a breath
Fantasy made real
*******
I love snow. I’ve always loved snow. I like the way that life slows down when it snows. I like the reminder that fragile things – tiny, delicate things – like snowflakes, can have a huge impact and tremendous power.
A December snowstorm is a truly rare thing here in Virginia. The forecast has changed several times over the last hours, so I’m not sure how much snow we’ll get today, but I can tell you one thing:
I will enjoy every single millimeter and every single moment of it.
Waiting for Snow
For days and days,
we watch.
And we wait –
for the cold snap,
the good pattern,
full clouds and low pressure,
the track and the timing,
elements that must come together.
Warm breath on the crisp air,
red noses, chilly fingers,
hats and gloves
and hot chocolate in hand,
we watch and we wait
for the delicate promise
of the season’s first snow.
A Virginia Writer's Diary 