Day Twelve of Wild Writing with Laurie Wagner
This poem
won’t return us to six months ago,
before the virus altered our world
and removed our innocence.
But it can wonder about six months from now
and who among us will still be here.
before the virus altered our world
and removed our innocence.
But it can wonder about six months from now
and who among us will still be here.
This poem won’t change the landlord’s heart
and bring you a puppy,
but it will remember the puppies you’ve loved.
(It might bring you some tears.)
This poem can’t make your legs stronger
so you can walk farther, but it will fold itself up,
stick itself in your pocket, and amble with you
slowly along the shore, cane
tap tap tapping,
breathing in the salt and the seaweed,
checking out the travelling clouds,
thrilling to the song of the waves,
checking out the travelling clouds,
thrilling to the song of the waves,
taking notes for the next poem.
This poem
can’t fix all the things
that need fixing. It is too big a job.
But it can reflect on the state of the world,
with concern and dismay,
and offer some solace and hope
to the world-weary.
that need fixing. It is too big a job.
But it can reflect on the state of the world,
with concern and dismay,
and offer some solace and hope
to the world-weary.
This poem can point the way to a better tomorrow,
can encourage, empathize, offer support
and a way forward. It can offer direction to those
searching for a Way, some life wisdom
to the young and worried, a virtual hug
for those sitting in silent rooms, alone,
just as I am sitting in a silent room, alone.
This poem
can’t bring you the love
you waited your whole life for; it can’t
restore all that has been taken away,
the many loves you have lost.
But it can send you down a path
in an old growth forest, where you
can breathe in the peace, fortify
your heart in the healing silence,
and mend some of the cracks
in your soul.
you waited your whole life for; it can’t
restore all that has been taken away,
the many loves you have lost.
But it can send you down a path
in an old growth forest, where you
can breathe in the peace, fortify
your heart in the healing silence,
and mend some of the cracks
in your soul.
These poems you write are so honest, Sherry. The second stanza was so sad. I wish you could have a puppy again. Even though there is pain in this poem, there is also optimism. I do hope for a 'better tomorrow' or at least a good tomorrow. And yes....one can remember, and there is some solace in that!
ReplyDeleteI too like the honesty of your lines and how you are able to see the negative as well as the positive in all the situations you depict.
ReplyDeleteI love this form! Want you to know I have gone way back to poems of yours I had not read. How do I begin to tell you how they resonate with me? A simple thank you must do.
ReplyDeleteThank you for doing that, Helen. That means a great deal to me.
ReplyDeleteyes, it can remember. I think that is the poet's duty ~
ReplyDeleteSherry, this is so lovely, and real and tender. I love your words here.
ReplyDeleteThanks for reminding me that we can choose which paths we want to walk, even in these difficult times.
ReplyDeleteWords to ease a troubled mind, as all of ours are these days. Even the rhythm is calming.
ReplyDeleteI wish more people would realise that poetry can do so much for the soul, Rosemary. Your poem demonstrates this honestly and with great understanding. I especially love the lines:
ReplyDelete‘This poem can’t make your legs stronger
so you can walk farther, but it will fold itself up,
stick itself in your pocket, and amble with you
slowly along the shore
…,
thrilling to the song of the waves,
taking notes for the next poem.’
With every thing the poem can't do, a redress which is the greater deeper sense of that thing Marvelously constructed and assuring deep below where it counts. - Brendan
ReplyDelete