Poetry

ks-kyung-YmPqWIQcl9c-unsplash

 

STAYING HOME

I open the door
To hear the birds singing
I open the door
To feel the sun on my face
I open the door
To let the crisp March air wake me from my fear-filled sleep
I open the door and step onto the grass
That small patch of sanctuary
I need to know that here is where my feet are
Cold on scrubby wet spring grass
Mud on my heels
I breathe as if for the first time
Here there is no breaking news
Here the starlings gather and startle
Here I let the great grief I carry fall
And here on this grass in the sun
I am held by the oldest of mothers and I remember
Who I am and what it means to be
Here.

annie-spratt-Om8pSzVoXIM-unsplash

 

MARCH 17, 2020

Today I am fifty
How different are my wishes on this day than from just a few weeks ago
Which seem like years ago now
Today I am fifty
And my wish is to somehow pour love over the world and
For my family to be here with me
Safe and sound and safe and sound
And your family, and all the grandmothers and the children to be safe and sound
I know this year will be remembered but not because
Of birthdays
I wonder at the passage of time that brought us to this
And I confess that yesterday when I saw Raven on the roof
I flinched
For that trickster called relentlessly to me and asked
You’re not afraid of the dark, are you?
Look up, look up old woman, you must look for the stars
Only in the dark can we see the light
That’s how it works
Although this is a birthday it must also mark the ending
For I am old enough now and must abandon the illusions of control and doing
Feel my way into the dark arms of trust and being
Can I find the way – not out but through?
Raven calls again from this rooftop with slow moving news
All things are birthed from a dark womb
Her dark eye moves, her wing
There is no new power rising this is old, old as the mother, old as the stars
And so on this birth day I see the spiraling cycle
I see Raven’s eye in the center and I know
I am a crone
And Raven in her mercurial darkness calls forth the golden light
of love
And asks me to pour
For today I am fifty
And time is standing
Still

Kay Leverton

 

LOUD
(for Jess)

In a peaceful field of green grass
I spread out an old quilt, that my grandmother made
Like a grandchild, I want her arms around me now
And with a sigh I lie down, to watch the sky
I see the white clouds ease across the sheltering blue
I imagine a rabbit, a turtle, a dolphin emerging in puffy formations
The breeze stirs my hair, the sun is warm on my face
Nearby a bee is buzzing and I realize in this moment that I am happy
Later I will pick the daisies in this field and take them home
Make a daisy-chain crown for my daughter
Who will inherit this earth from me
I have forgotten for a moment
About the noise
Just past the horizon
Where the news breaks against the shore like a relentless tsunami
I have come here to forget what is loud
To be still and quiet
For this moment, here
Not so far away the insistent disaster
Slouches onward and it demands, it coerces
That my fear be a living, breathing thing
It is so loud, this world we have made
The grinding of gears, of glass and cement
The dogs chained and howling, the machines
The factories, the hammers, the loud emptiness
In a peaceful field of green grass
I spread out an old quilt, that my grandmother made
And with a sigh I lie down, to watch the sky

virginia-lackinger-JV0y2YgXJcY-unsplash

Thank you for sharing if this content is useful to you.