Rain comes in many forms. Rain drops or tears or a stretch of time (reign) that touches all when they fall. The Chinese say “May you live in interesting times!” there is no doubt we do, if the events of this past week have taught us anything. So we celebrate life with the words of all of our expressive and interesting poets. Marie and I love the lot of you, not just from your words, but as people: friends and “family,” a part of the fabric of our lives! Now the BLOOMS:
MARIE ELENA’S CHOICE
The poetry barometer was off the charts for this prompt. You folks are going to think I am “all talk” when I say these things, but choosing only one poem to highlight was nearly impossible for me this week. I finally settled in on one that is so simple and pure that it could nearly be overlooked: Death Then Life, by Paula Wanken. To borrow Damon Dean’s words, Paula, “you’ve nailed the truth again by framing this image for us in your words.” That’s just your way. And as Walt said, “this was as expressive as all get out.” Indeed! Paula, it is my pleasure to offer you my Bloom.
DEATH THEN LIFE by Paula Wanken
wrapped in a pall of
death; few signs
of life, and
even fewer reasons to
hope…til fresh rain falls.
The seeds that
died to self, take on
Hope is found
after the storm, in the new
life that emerges.
Perhaps the best living
comes after dying.
This poem is very impressive when the back story is revealed. And after the REIGN of terror that our brothers and sisters in Massachusetts have experienced this past week, it carries more gravity. The fact that they’ve “made it through the rain” is a testament and tribute to those who have lost life and limb. The scars will run deep for a while. But we will persevere. Amy Barlow Liberatore’s Half a Rainstorm is Better Than None (Bermuda, 1987) earns the recognition for her heart and compassion to all of us and our extended family: the human race. Thank you, Amy!
Half a Rainstorm is Better Than None (Bermuda, 1987) –
(by Amy Barlow Liberatore)
Favorite haunt in Hamilton.
A day-off treat, strong coffee
dense shortbread, and
small talk with a friend.
Sky darkens, pavement is
wet across the way.
We emerge, fully
Yet we’re on the “sunny side of the street.”
Rain spatters cobblestones in
a literal line drawn down the lane.
A meteorological DMZ.
Island storms are that specific.
I pass my hand into the storm and
pull it out again; palm to fingers, drenched.
It dries in the sun as we ponder miracles.
© 2013 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Congratulations Paula and Amy! Congratulations to every poet in our garden. And congratulations to the lives we live.