reflection

Woman with a Mirror 
Oil on Canvas, Frederick Carl Frieseke

She is so different from me.

She’s shallow and illiterate

Splits infinitives…

She hates and says so

With sloppy gusto.

She holds on tight

And snuffs out light.

Complains and voices,

unhappy choices.

Her weak hands she incessantly wrings-

 Without much thought of changing things.

That woman in the looking glass

I hate the perfect form she casts…

She is so different –

From me.

walk

Image by: http://www.flickr.com/photos/estarsid/

I walk a million miles a day,

and dream a million dreams.

I ask to see what people say,

and after, when they go away-

I find out what it means.

I grow each day, a thousand feet.

Not everyone can tell.

And when the sky and I will meet-

I'll call a certain cloud my seat-

and rest my body well.  

And if I die before my day,

I hope my dreams live on. 

There must be some fantastic way-

to keep them alive or make them stay-

When I'm already gone.  

Today's poem, "A Million Miles" was written when I was 16.  Today I remembered my Dad's reaction to it: "We gotta publish that sucker!" It is one of my favorite memories of my life.  

173

One hundred and seventy three
Days of bliss
and joy
and tears
and love
and being so wide awake-
and hyper-conscious
of every little thing....

Grateful
Humble
stuttering....

I wish I had the ballet grace
To navigate sobriety,
Instead of clumsy thumbs-
Like always,
I have found myself to have.

Deep breaths,
Water,
Walks and patience.

Always, always -
You,
Lord.

girl

If I should fall am I still me?

The woman I wish I was,

Not am

But want to be?

Whose eyes will see?

I am less and nothing –

And more and greater

Than who I am.

Your beautiful girl.

Enough as she is.

transformation

Inside a tunnel of broken glass-

A world that only I have made,

My open heart lies in your hands,

The one of whom I’m not afraid.

You rescue me to glorious lands-

Your love will never, ever fade.

By definition, I am your treasure.

From discarded waste, you made me new.

Once choosing random passing pleasures-

You transformed me to someone true.

Renewed and softened beyond measure;

Each day I laugh because of you.

Because I know that you are you.

ocean

I once lost an ocean.

I put it down there-

And walked to get coffee. 

When I came back it was gone-

And I just had it

I thought, scratching

My overburdened head.

Where had my ocean gone?

I think of you

There. Across the path of resistance-

The least likely victim

Of all of this chaos

We call LIFE here.

One day

There’ll be no lost bridges,

Oceans or friends.

One day….

walk

The most beautiful man lives just down the street,

In a red madras shirt and no shoes on his feet.

I find him there when my dogs lurch after his -

A small ball of fur that seems larger than he is.

I used to apologize for my dogs (like a mother)

But we’re used to the dance and now greet each other.

“How are you?” he bellows above his dog’s yelps.

“I’m well, thank God!” I say, and then nothing else.

Such a simple exchange is not too much to see,

But he glows when he smiles and nods at me.   

I have grown to look forward to this part of my day -

The man is always there when I walk by that way.

I would have once thought he had nothing to do –

Holed up in his garage and smoking a few…

His solid white hair and his wheelchair betray-

Why this beautiful man is un-rushed in his day.

While the rest of the world hurries, laments and gives way-

He reminds me to slow down my day.