My friend, said, “Try to think in ways
you’ve never thought before.”
I said, “I am, who I am.”
“I thought I was who I was,” he said, “then I
found mould in my porch and felt on edge —
that’s opportunity.”
“No,” I said, “life for me is settled,
when someone approaches my house,
I know it’s Amazon.”
“Try this instead,” he said,
“when someone calls,
think of it as Hermes, or maybe Gabriel,
carrying a message from Easter Island,
telling you you’re forgiven.
Or when the mechanic at Canadian Tire
emerges to tell you
she’s fixed your wheel bearing, think of her
as rising out of a lake, her hair
as antlers full of golden bulrushes
and her smile as coming
from a million miles away, arriving
like a kiss,
the speed of love,
which is slightly faster than light.”
“I think I understand,” I said, “Every time
I start a poem,
it’s never what I thought I’d be.”
“Exactly,” he said, “when you’re hiking up
Maple Mountain and the trail ends at that cell tower,
think of it as a pilgrimage to an Ashram,
where Fr. Bede helps you find your
hidden stone of shame,
which is thrown over the cliff,
plunging into the valley of forgetfulness,
and your family arrives with
baskets of blueberries.”
“It’s true,” I said, “just
when I presume a closing line,
everything before it changes —
which changes the end.”
“You see?” he said, “Your poem
is just beginning to be
who it is.”
Beautiful Stephen, I love the imagery in this poem, very thoughtful and clever indeed. Thank-you.
like a kiss,
the speed of love,
which is slightly faster than light.”
Thank you, Kirk! So appreciate you letting me know.
This is clever (I love clever) and ordinary (Amazon) and outside of the box and romantic. This satisfied my need for something special – there simply is no measure for the value of imagination!
Thank you so much, Deane!
I am chuckling in delight, Stephen, while thinking “of her as rising out of a lake, her hair as antlers full of golden bulrushes” and “your family arriving with baskets of blueberries”. Such flights of imagination are the perfect thing for this cold, cloudy, damp, somewhat drab day. As are your encouragements to try them for ourselves!
Thank you.
Thank you for that, Ann! Smiling back at you. 🙂
Steve – one day, some aspiring young English literature PhD candidate, in an effort to become more than s/he is, will write a dissertation on this one. Me – I’ll read this one over again … and again! But there are themes… some don’t show up until the second or third reading…. or more….
Thanks for this, Sam! I so appreciate your close reading.
Absolutely filled to the brim
with wonder and
delight!
And this,
just
the beginning… <3
Tamara, thank you, kind friend!