This is the Poem I’ll Never Write

Holding hands in matching rockers
Laughing about when we were young
You reminiscing about record stores and ska shows
As I tell our grandchildren tales of magic
Spending our sunset days in loving conversations
Each other's best bestie
Strolling into the ever after that follows the happily

-gws

How to Eat a Rainbow

Glittering seeds that sparkle in winter
Much like a geode cracked open

Textured spheres like palm-sized suns
Perfume the grove with citrus tang

Oblong bunches entice with
promises of creamy, tropical sweetness

Tart, crisp heralds of autumn
Ready to move from bushel to Thanksgiving pie

Baskets of chewable night-sky pearls
Fresh from bush to muffin tin

Plump globes hang heavy on the vine in the tea-colored afternoon sun
Destined for bottle, jar, or a snack popped between a lover’s lips

-gws

Patience

Photo by Jenny Uhling on Pexels.com
Patience is hard
Growing
Becoming
Evolving
All require patience
In a world where instant gratification
Rewards us at the tap of a button
Practicing patience can feel like torture

Patience demands of us
To stay tethered to this moment
Preventing any full escape into distraction
Being present is trying
It feels hard
Abrasive
Affronting
We are uncomfortable
Patience requires us to
Embrace the discomfort
That often comes from
Being wholly present

Patience presents the opportunity
To practice experiencing the now
To practice being curious
About our being
About our feelings
So that we may learn
To know ourselves better
So that we may learn to be
More comfortable
In our own skin
In our own spirit
In our own life

-gws

From

Photo by Luku00e1u0161 Dlutko on Pexels.com
I am from slave ships, cotton fields, and courthouse slave trades
I am from generations of strong women who fought to do more than simply survive
From an oldest, broken white son with a poet's heart and a love of rivers
I am from a youngest, determined black daughter who sacrificed so much for those she loves

I am from a loving grandmother who wore her traumas as bitterness
While she fixed fried chicken and collard greens with ease
I am from Saturday morning chores with the "golden oldies" playing
I am from love and struggle and sacrifice, the latter two I was rarely aware of
I am from church on Sundays to commune with a God I knew better than most in that place
And who wore a virgin mother's countenance

I am from morning and afternoon cartoon blocks
And Saturday mornings in front of the TV singing to School House Rock
I am from riding my bike for miles and for hours
I am from being too curvy to be a real dancer
While I danced my heart to joyful dust on every stage
I am from having so much to say but rarely feeling heard
I am from watching TV at the same time as a friend while on a phone attached to a wall
And playing chicken with who will hang up before a parent yelled at both of us to get off the phone

I am from acid washed jeans, baby doll tops, denim, velour, and asymmetrical collars and hems
Hammer pants, jelly shoes, banana clips, mismatched pairs of accessories, side ponytails
From French-cut leotards, stirrup pants, Lycra biker shorts, flavored lip gloss, and neon everything

I am from My Little Pony, Strawberry Shortcake, Rainbow Bright, Cabbage Patch Kids, He-Man, and She-Ra
I am from Voltron, Robotech, GI Joe, Snorks, Smurfs, reruns of Loony Tunes, and Scooby-Doo
From Newton's Apple, Square One TV, 321 Contact, Not Another Science Show, and Read It
I am from Garbage Pail Kids, Magic: The Gathering, Pogs, and Beanie Babies
I am from "Are You There, God? It's Me, Margaret?" and "The Dollhouse Murders"
From Choose Your Own Adventures, and Encyclopedia Brown
Christopher Pike, Diane Duane, collections of "true" ghost stories and tales of the strange

I am from Dallas, Dynasty, Rescue 911, and Unsolved Mysteries
Fantasy Island, The Cosby Show, and The Wonderful World of Disney
I am from "At the sound of the tone *chime sound* turn the page."
From hitting record on my tape deck hoping to catch my favorite song without a DJ's voice
I am from Fisher Price record players, dual tape decks, and dropping mix tapes for mix CDs
From VHS winning over beta-max and laser disc
From spending hours in mall bookstores, arcades, and food courts

I am from dreams and imaginings
Soap bubble fairy wishes and hours of made up worlds alone and with friends
From possibilities and plans
I am from "You will have more than I did."
And "You will want for little."
I am from a loving mother who never let me feel alone
I am from good friends who never made me feel like the weird kid I kinda was
I am from "You are as good, if not better, than EVERYONE else, and don't you forget it!"
And "You can do anything you put your mind to."

I am from a tapestry of experiences and influences
From a variety of adventures and explorations
I am from a life full of love and support and as much opportunity as could be afforded
And though not always easy or smooth
I am from the just-right mix that created the me you see

-gws


Ecstasy

(A palinode to Grief)
Ecstasy illuminates 
It amplifies joy
Making time feel inconsequential
Grounding me deep in the moment
Called by the here and now
Allowing full presence in the experience of it
Ecstasy demands we be seated in our bodies
To experience pleasure
And laughter
And belonging as part of the great tapestry of living
Our senses acute and engaged
Begging we greedily partake
In the gifts that life offers
Richly
Vividly
Intricately
With all of our senses
Inciting never ending curiosity
And a desire for the bliss of it to never end

-gws

Judging a Book By Its Cover

A Book of Images by W.T. Horton & W. B. Yeats
Published 1898

What wonderment do you contain
Are you an account of actualities
Or a tome of terrors
A book of observations
Or imaginings
Your title so simple
Your cover art surreal
With its hand drawn landscape 
Or is it a dreamscape
Did you inspire
Did you create controversy
Did you find a home on many Victorian library shelves
Or did you gather dust in obscure bookshops
Unnoticed and unread
Your goldenrod cover calling to patrons like a beacon

-gws