today, i broke through the surface and grabbed a gulp of air

The dry spell feels as if it is finally over. At the base of one mountain was another twice as high to climb separated by arid places in between. I’ve probably broken a Guinness world record of some sort for the least consistent participant in a write-every-day commitment.  About one week after taking the assertive blogging challenge, the bottom falls out of the floor upon which my writing-table, chair, wire bound notebooks and pen cup rested. That which I thought I could always rely on was no more so easily accessible.

But today I was able to break the surface and grabbed a gulp of air. I actually wrote one poem toward the end of March, but because things were still so hectic I wasn’t able to publish it until now. Then the miraculous happened; another poem came along behind it. 

Humbly grateful to God for keeping my talent and passion intact, I submit what I have to offer the world in the hope that it is a better place for it:

It’s More Than A Missing Tooth

as she runs her tongue
across the place where they once were
mourn the loss of a part of herself
what this might be about
is facing getting old
looking long and hard in a mirror
it’s about missed opportunities
failed chances
it’s about brass rings that swing by
without an interruption of centrifugal
force

it’s about truth
of who is left after life
has nibbled and scratched
dined at the table
yet offered the host nothing in return
but the open sepulcher
the grave where dining ends and mourning begins
for what is lost and what can never be replaced
it’s about life again
new opportunities, shiny brass rings
swinging in the wake of fierce winds
tornadoes and hurricanes of
living as she promised herself she would
fearlessly

I wrote the following piece earlier today while sitting in a Starbucks in Irvington. As I gazed out the window, pondering and waiting, this poem/song came to me.

Rev. Green

try as she might to concentrate
on the important thing
the mortgage due, the light bill paid
the dog walked, wood gathered for the fire
she puts down her pen
in the midst of these important things
long enough to hear the message
of Rev. Green on the radio
singing about

Love And Happiness*
                                . . . make you do right, love’ll make you do wrong;
                                make you come home early, make you stay out all night long. .
.
                                the power of love. . .

as the song plays on
she forgets her place
in the sprawling landscape of important things
to daydreams about
the power of love
the sermon Rev. Green is preachin’
until the song is done

*Love & Happiness written by Mabon Hodges and Al Green

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3 Responses to “today, i broke through the surface and grabbed a gulp of air”

  1. Rosie Bishop Says:

    Grateful to God and all the sprites for your talent and the random connection that brought it onto our screen!

  2. Rosie Bishop Says:

    Wondering how one comes by “tutelage” such as you found: “I began taking writing as art seriously about 6 years ago, under the tutelage of Ms. Deborah Asante, and Mr. James Officer. These two inspired me to be creative and they have not relinquished their zeal for art and personal expression.” Blessings on those two!

    I have two friends named Valentine for real. Celebrating your breakthrough.

    • Tutelage means friendship. God brought these immensely talented people into my life to push me out of the nest, challenging me to not hide my talent, but to lend my voice to say what I have to say to the world. Deborah and James are fierce lions as artists, and I needed to be around that.

      As always, Rosie, thanks so much for reading and traveling along with me in this journey. I appreciate your readership and suppport. Grace & Peace to you.

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