Poemfish

Lessons

 

So I am laying on the floor in my studio,
stretched across this pretty green rug,
wishing it was grass, as close to the vent
as I can get.  My bones are cold.  Stiff.

The older I get, the more I despise winter.
Most days it seems impossible to get warm. 

I miss the outdoors and painting in my studio
with the windows open ~ kitties perched on
the windowsills, my sketches and notes
shuffling about as the wind whispers in
their ears.  I miss my sparkly pink sandals,
instead my feet tucked away

in fuzzy socks and snow boots.

I know spring will be here soon enough, just as
I know there is green grass beneath the layers
of snow. 

But today I ache for the sun. 

Today I will linger too long in a hot bath
and then dress in layers as I sip hot tea and
burn my tongue.

I will remind myself that the cost of living
is much higher in warmer climates. 

And even though it's hard to accept,
I will know that every season
has its lessons. 

A Difference

 “Starting today, we must pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off, and begin again the work of remaking America.” ~ President Barack Obama

 

Yesterday was my first full day of painting since my big

Christmas push last month.  And I don’t think it was

a coincidence that it took packing up my art supplies

and spending the day with my parents, watching history unfold,

as I painted at their kitchen table

watching Barack Obama’s inauguration,

to fill me with hope and inspiration for the new year.

 

I, like most of America, was glued to the television,

wanting to witness not just history, but the brilliant

vision of hope that filled Washington Mall and spilled out

into the surrounding streets.  To see so many people

united in joy and excitement, rather than protest and

frustration, was like a dream  ~ that vision of peace

we all carry in our hearts as we have since childhood.

 

People laughing, crying, waving their flags, embracing

one another and sharing stories of struggle and hope.

Everyone feeling the emotion of a nation that is shifting

from negativity and fear to excitement and optimism and

desperately wanting to be part of that change.

 

I think we are all in some way or another,

seeking change ~ in our jobs, our health, our relationships,

our communities, and in our country.

 

We want to spend more time and effort focusing on the

things that really matter to us.  We want to live energized,

passionate lives, understanding the beauty and value

of our own unique voices.

 

We want to believe there is goodness in our country and the way

it’s being run and that we are part of a collective that

has the power to bring about change in the world.

And Barack Obama has instilled that feeling in all of us.

 

My husband once told me that he’d read something by Howard Zinn

explaining his belief that one man alone cannot change the world,

but that man’s ability to inspire others can. 

That is the power of of our new President, Barack Obama.

His ability to speak to us passionately about

the impact WE can have in our own lives and

the lives of those around us. 

That is what makes him a great leader.

 

His words inspire us, reminding us of the strength

our country was founded on and the strength that lives

within us all.  And sometimes, we all just need

a little reminder of our value and importance

to get us up in the morning and help us realize 

we too can make a difference.

 

Love-Letter to Myself . . .

Embrace every day with truth and

an open heart.  Hold your dreams

gently. Keep going, even when you

think your legs are not strong enough,

your heart will carry you . . .

Looking ahead

Looking, originally uploaded by CaseyKurz.

"For last year's words
belong to last year's language
and next year's words await
another voice. And to make
an end is to make a beginning."

~T.S. Elliot

And So I Will Begin Again

And So I Will Begin Again, originally uploaded by CaseyKurz.

There is a moment when everything you know changes.

Sometimes it's a specific event,
and you literally see it coming at you like
an old friend wheeling their grocery cart
towards you in the produce section.

Other times it's a sudden shifting
in your heart, a peace blanketing over
parts of your heart you thought were lost
or broken.

For me, it was a little bit of both.

A quiet rising I could feel in my chest for days,
unsure if it was heartburn or hope. The way
he looked at me from the moment I walked through
the door, his eyes sparkling as I spoke, wanting to
tell me something but not sure how.

And when he finally spoke, I could feel it all
slipping away ~ the pain, the sorrow, the frustration,
the panic, the loss of the person he thought he was.

Something had shifted in him too, and there we were
standing in the kitchen, his back against the stove
as the smoke from the rice rose up in soft waves
behind him, my arm touching his, each of us spilling hopes
and dreams, every moment more exciting than the next.

Despite all the reasons we had to be worried or
afraid for what was to come in this new year, we
couldn't shake the feeling that this was our time.
That all the work and stress and tears had pushed
us to this place we could no longer deny.

This feeling of utter possibility, the understanding that
without directions or even a map, we had still arrived at
the place we'd been seeking.
The place where hope lives and writes poetry,
whispering jokes in our ears at the dinner table,
keeping the fire lit
so even on the darkest of nights
we always
know the way back.