about a girl

Tell her I ‘m looking out for her.

Tell her the earth is round and she is able

to walk it back and forth in any style she pleases.

Tell her that fear is part of this life and also joy.

Tell her not to be scared to live.

Tell her that she will get hurt and that she will hurt.

Tell her to dance and eat.

To travel and read.

To be compassionate.

Tell her that she will be right and wrong.

Tell her the darkness comes and then the light. And then again.

Tell her she is beautiful.

Tell her she is loved.

Tell her this is only the beginning.

the whale

A whale found its way into my words.

It was big and soft like too much

love. And tender.

It was smiling. It knew

its way around my body and into

my heart.

It was blue. Or maybe grey.

It fed my belly with light

and water.

It stayed there for a while and taught me

how to swim

freely 

through

the oceans.

the way of the world

this is not the way of the world.

all this pain is not part of the plan.

and all the loneliness. No.

we are not made to be this way.

we are not made to fear each other.

we are not made to live in empty rooms or in filled-up rooms.

we are not made to lose our hope, our ability to dream and love.

i look at us and i want to love us all.

i look at us and i want to be a god

to take us all from the hand

to hold us in my arms

to say that it is all going to be ok.

i look at us and i want to show us how beautiful we are

how blessed how strong.

we are one.

in love.

this is the way of the world.

Raising a girl

I can see you clearly now

how scared you are to speak

to play with the other children

and how you hide deep deep 

inside seeking a nest

somewhere to be quiet.

You comb your hair

you wear your dress

you tie your sandals.

This labor lasted many years.

And the birth just as many.

You have finally become me.

You step up firmly

you leave the nest

and walk on strongly

towards love.

thinking about you

new

We sit on the small veranda of our first, common home.

We drink wine, beer, water.

We eat our dinner, laugh, kiss, talk.

The seeds we planted last year in our garden have begun to sprout.

They will bloom this year.

We take in deep breaths

of basils and frangipani

and give deep hugs

and share the news of days past.

 

We talk all night, in low voices, in whispers, slowly.

Late in the morning

fatigue is sweet and tender.

Peacefully you go to sleep.

And I make coffee and go to my desk.

I have poems to write.

Poems have to be written.

I hold the pen

looking for words

a first word, something

anything.

The room is silent.

The table is silent.

The chair is silent.

The paper remains blank. (I am empty.)

The paper remains blank. (I am full.)

I turn off the light.

I snuggle in our bed.

"Poems will not be written”, I happily declare.

And go to sleep

quietly.

green

Today I look you in the eyes.

I do not fear. Not at all. Not even a bit.

 

Today I hold you close.

You are beautiful. You are.

 

I laugh and laugh today.

Quietly. Silently. Softly.

 

Today there is no pain.

Just a tiny bruise. So as not to forget.

 

There is nothing to discuss today.

Or to figure out.

 

Today I wear my favorite dress.

And come to find you.