More rain on the way
And I can’t feel anything but grateful for it
Because of three years of drought
Of being careful and not wasting
Which of course meant no running through the sprinkler
For the kids and no water balloon tosses
Alex came home
In the middle of the day
And we sat together knee to knee
Leaning in
And came to understand some things
And those were things such as
There are no guarantees and security is an illusion
Such as fear just wants to be held
Such as we are vulnerable and we are strong
Such as the desire for freedom
Is a wild horse being broken
By men with ropes and whips
And that I’m here for the horse
Across the street
DeanDean the dancing machine
Is looking at the sky
Rocking on his heels
Opening a can of beer
I don’t know what he thinks
But he asked Alex if he could take the boys golfing some time
Since they don’t go to school
As if schoolessness equals empty space
As if I don’t even exist
Maybe I don’t
I want to be at the beach today
Staring out into the gray vagueness of the sea
Letting the sand trickle through my fingers
Remembering another place
Of browner skinned people
Fortunate encounters that lead to
All-night conversations full of raptness and accord
With music in the background
But I’m afraid there would be war
I wonder if Earth
Will collapse in on herself
After we’ve bled dry all her channels
And then when I hear Ian
Crashing around in the kitchen
I wonder what to make for dinner
He asks if we’re in the phone book
And I don’t even know
When I was very young
I thought you could call information
And ask them any question
And they would have the answer
Yes, he says we’re in the phone book
Oh good
That’s proof of something isn’t it.
I love this poem, Kathleen… how you start, where you take us, with you, and how it ends. Revealing, in these moments, how we are affected by and pay attention to the details of life and how the bigger questions and the answering moments of revelation come to us simultaneously, right here, where we are, in our driveways, at the kitchen counter. Your painterly, poetic weaving of moments in life with the expression of desires and wonderings creates layers of texture that are rich, and very alive, real. You’ve paid attention, which seems like love to me, and are helping me pay attention too. Thank you for this!
Yeah, Kathleen. Thanks again for having just the right words to make it easy to feel into you and your life…
partly cloudy, partly clear
proof of life
is everywhere
Meg Ry An
an Russ Silk Row
‘Proof Of Life’ away we go!
some are chosen
some are used
with the answer:
more confused!
When the film came out to play
East and West they ran away
then
(leaving out what happened next)
home is best
stay home!