poems from a monday night #1

hush, please
and youll hear the wind
blow away summers
hot.
heavy.
air.

shh

hush, please

and you’ll hear the wind

blow away summers

hot.

heavy.

air.

 

forget for a moment

the click of computers, the buzz of these lightbulbs, the unstoppable tick of that clock

listen please

to the sound

of the rain

on the sidewalk

 

to the plants drooping downwards,

to the drip of the dew on the dirt,

to the wetness of raindrops on summerdry concrete,

to the swish of the grass underfoot

 

set down your pencils and papers and planners

and let yourself breathe wild air

do you notice the leaves are all brown on that one branch

do you see that theyll soon be bare

 

hush, please

or join in the chorus

of birds crying out to the sky

 

of latenight bugs humming and little mice running and the rush of the clouds as they cry

 

as the winds rattle branches

and join grasses in dances

 

they breathe summer out

 

with a

 

sigh.

 

-h

from coals back to fire

im remembering perfection doesnt exist and instead, we do.

yesterday the winds were blowing and the lake had waves and its like a season ending or times are turning or something, something dramatic about change

and i feel light, light like the eagle when he rides the breeze above the dock, light like singing so loud in the car with the windows down, light like laughter

and i feel almost silly for how heavy life has been

im remembering perfection doesnt exist and instead, we do.

my best efforts will only ever be that and thats what theyve been and everything thats been awkward or terrible or humiliating or embarrassing or a failure has no right to be judged, it just is, it just is.

and its fun to put labels on me and on things but sometimes a bad day is just a bad day or a bad mood is because im lonely or i stubbed my toe or i need a shower or its sticky hot in the house and i had to make small talk and im grumpy.

maybe im not broken and nothing is all that wrong

maybe im broken and put together in the way that we all are

and things have actually been so incredibly incredibly right.

(right, not 100%-and-A+ right, right as in sun on my skin and moving my body and laughter so frequent i cant imagine half a day without it – right as in seeing all my friends and dancing until dawn and brothers-again and taking-the-risks and a job that i care about, a job thats Important, and being so in love with the people in my life its ridiculous,  it should be a movie, it should be a lifetime, that kind of right)

so dont let the wind blow away summer yet, dont let the seasons change, i want this one, i take it all back, im not mad at the hardness of the sun anymore, its a miracle if i believed in those, its a gift, its perfection in its absurdity

and so before its over

let me speak

let me speak and not only about hard things

i have words to say about the wind on my face, my hair blowing in every direction and the waves hitting the shore like its a beach, like its the ocean, like its natural music, and i want you to see how far across the blue shimmer water the trees build up into hillsides. and the boats all rock side to side like little dancers and its everything i ever want, this moment, right now. the eagle rides the wind for the joy of it and so do the sailboats and i stand balancing in the whirl of all this, grounded, soaring, laughing

all we are is our stories and i want to tell mine with hope again.

and then i was gone all day, returning late late in the special star-view blackness of night. but when i opened up my car door, the wind was still there. and with the water slapping the shore, the feel of that air moving everything back into place, my sleepy-eyed brain recognized it all and felt

home.

‘this is the lake’ i told my also-arriving friend

as if that explained anything at all

‘this is the lake,

and thats the wind.’

and i breathed it all in, and then let the world breathe me out again

 

-h