When you have swum the rapids
and come to shore, stood on the sand
and found yourself upright . . .
what more can there be?
Perhaps, only to sing an aria
from a heart overwhelmed
by a love researching his own heart. . .
only to find newborns who are
the best of blends of mothers and fathers,
(loved wisely and well), with heads wide open. . . . .
to find a world that was as promised,
with roses blooming in December and
Thanksgiving on the first day of Spring.
It is these and more
and when the cardinal sings
I will acknowledge his song to show
that a life can be lived with a mind open
to hear muses sing their songs of joy and
pray their mourning songs.
To show that a heart can be
stripped of itself like layers of onion skin
and still keep a steady beat.
I’ve taken the long way home and
nearing the gate, please catch me, I say
and pull me on through.
I will answer c’est moi, it is I,
to prove we can go home again and again.
July, 2013
Veronica
As beautiful and comforting as Rumi. Naysaying the naysayers. Thank you.
Ruth, as one poet to another, it is a high compliment you pay me. I appreciate your comments. I thank you.
Every poem you write brings me a gift of some sort. My eyes see a little clearer each time I am witness to your work. Many thanks for that.
Suzanne, and you gift me with your appreciation. No greater reward for this writer than to know my work finds a home with a thoughtful reader. Thank you for commenting.
Sounds like you’re home Veronica.
Maria, in more ways than I can count. It has been and continues to be a journey of note.
an e mail from Jane at Little House Home Arts. . . . this is lovely. It is nice that our spirits continue on with the values we cherish most and that we can go home.