Journey to Your Deepest Self

The Elephants and Their Faces

by Kathleen MacGregor It is spring But it is not lightness and joy that Are visiting her today. The daffodils Are blinding in their yellowness And she turns her face away. The crocuses Are unfolding themselves and having a stretch But she walks past them without a sniff. The robins Are feasting and round on worms. So many worms Lay dead, having drowned and are uneaten. If she finds one alive on the walk She picks it up and Carries it to the dirt beside the road. Because a worm she can save. But she can’t save a boy in uniform In a street In a war. She can’t save her sons From all the ways there are to Torture. Be tortured. She can’t stop the relentless Turning of the seasons And in her heart it feels like Winter. And she would like the sky To feel like winter too. Her heart feels like bare Branches, that the trees would be bare too. Remember how we’re all connected? Remember how we’re all one? Remember how killing the whales is killing Ourselves? Are you saying that it is I Who cut the elephants from their faces? Are you telling me That I turn redwood trees Into fences? I don’t want that. I don’t want to do that. How do I stop it? Yes, I am telling you that. I’m so sorry. You have had to feel so small and alone. Please, please forgive me. My unconsciousness. Thank you. For be-coming to my awareness. Thank you for showing me my love. I love...

The Last Flower

by Kathleen MacGregor Because his body sat itself down And I could almost hear… Because he thought he was alone, unwatched, unknown, Because I was home and could afford To spend some time, I opened my arms and heart to him, To us. And because I did, He spilled his worries and his sorrows- The purple bags beneath his blue eyes, His trembling hands, All the things he doesn’t know That he needs to learn To survive in the world, Trees that get bulldozed, Whales, dolphins, wolves And children in wars, The last flower. Because space opened up all around us, Time yawned and stood still And invited the troubles to linger and be tasted, And tell us what it’s like, Because we sat together In our willingness to feel, In our desire to connect, I got to hear him say, through crying eyes, “When will they know they are killing themselves?” “When will we know we are killing ourselves?” Because it seemed much too big for a 9 year old, I was shaking when I held him, And together we loved Not dimmed by grief But...

While You Were Away

by Kathleen MacGregor While you were away, I swept up a bit And shelved the books That had been piled into Tottering columns and Spread across the Ottoman. Piles you shifted each time You came home. PilesĀ  I insisted were Exactly where they needed to be. While you were away, It seems I took over The fussing, The irritation with clutter, The discontent. The resentment. While you were away, I woke up early, and Made tea before walking Out into the garden To prune and pull up some Weeds, coming in to Fold laundry and put it away. While you were away, I got a lot done. Calls were returned, Bills were paid. And I didn’t write a single poem, Make a collage, Or take a nap. No photographs were taken. While you were away, All the parts of myself That make it fun be alive, Died. Quietly. Vanished. As if they never were. I know who I’d be Without you. You are the sculptor’s hands Kneading, squeezing, pushing And I am the lump of clay Coming into form by your hands. And even if I am unsatisfying, Never turning out the way you plan, I am. And you keep returning to the...

Dear Love, A Letter

by Kathleen MacGregor Dear Love, We’ve changed. At least, I have and I can see how much you’ve grown from boyfriend to husband to father. Thank you for walking with me. What I want to know is: What is your desire? Do you want to skim the surface of a lake, laughing over waves, behind a boat in summer? Do you want to try scuba diving and go deep? Explore places no light’s ever reached before and be innocent and new together? Do you want to get comfortable in the shade of an old tree in the middle of a cool green lawn with a glass of white wine in your hand, a New Yorker on your lap, and watch the croquet players? All of it? Something else? I am restless for the deep sea adventure. And the sea is restless for me. I want to be known outside of whoever I think I am. To explore who we are at our cores, to finally be completely naked with you and discover Everything. Will you come with me? Always,...
Powered by WordPress | Designed by Elegant Themes