I’m falling asleep as I’m typing tonight, which clearly means that it’s time to stop and read a book. But I wanted to share something here, and I thought of this poem which I wrote a few years ago but which still has some resonance with me. I haven’t shared anything of my own here for a long time, but it’s something I’ve thought about doing recently.
If I curl on the couch a hot house plant
set out in the cold and weep green blood
over you, if I say a novena with salt
water and tissues, if I cry my questions
to the bright hard sky, if I shut my door
to all the world and pull the blinds
in all the windows, if I spin my words
to strands my strands to yarn my yarn
to rope to bind us together, if I plunge
your voice into my heart, if I give my shoes
my food my home my anger my song
my history my thought, if I cast my care away
and catch it at its return, if I hide my hurt
as I hide my joy sharing it with no one
a portrait in a secret compartment unmarked
beneath baubles and trinkets, if I haunt you
like your other ghosts, then what?
Will it douse the burning?
Will it build the house again?
(copyright 2011 By Singing Light)