Monday, May 23, 2011

Turtles at Sanibel

Nothing startled me awake tonight, no dream 
or other need.  
I simply opened my eyes. 
I could just make out the abandon of clothes 
in a bank on the floor, 
palm-held glasses on the bedside table, 
dark wine barely touched, 
the whirr of fan, a sound of surf just beyond 
the sliding screen door.
Lying here, I think of the beach 
as it is right now.
There is peace in the roll of water, 
the ruffle of sea grass in the wind,
a scattering of unbroken shells on the beach,
and the scuttle of hatchlings towards ebb tide 
finding haven on tiny rafts of algae 
that will carry them away 
like refugees clinging to the dark.    
© Susan Muse, 2011  

At the beach; photo by Tony Russell

Monday, May 16, 2011

I Am the Woman

I am the woman who starves for love
And yet has no trouble giving it
I am the woman who loves to dance
And yet aches to find a place to do it
I am the woman who picks up the pen
But often feels it flows inadequately
I am the woman who appears to be altogether
But often wonders who she really is
I am the woman who feels part of the universe
But wants to fill up many souls
I am the woman who aches for comfort
But always will reach out to give it
I am the woman who laughs out loud often
But often wants to break down and cry
I am the woman who wants to feel full in her body
But wants it to keep her warm
I am the woman who writes many hours
But wants to be more contented
I am the woman who wakes up each day to say “Thank You”
But walks among you thanking each one she meets
Thank you for allowing me to be here on this earth
To touch, teach, and comfort you
So that I can be the woman who feels blessed
To be sharing her soul with you.
© 2011,  Hilda Ward

Early morning on the Rivanna; photo by Tony Russell

Monday, May 9, 2011

Sounding

            when the last days come
            we shall see visions
            more vivid than sunsets
            brighter than stars
            we will recognize each other
            and see ourselves for the first time
            the way we really are

It bodies forth burdock, nettle,
dandelion loose leaf.
Sneaks, just below the navel
and calls from blackness beneath
the oceans; scattered echoes resurface,
fine pollen of blue corn.
In wavy shadows of my eye,
each name and place that struggles
to survive memory. 

Out in the desert, you know,
every moment the sun trembles
across the sky is the smallest death,
that you could call the smallest truth.

Somewhere behind
my left shoulder this life
reels—the only full realization
is death, say the Germans. 

Here is another: juniper trees
who reach into the bare red rocks
and have done for centuries—not long
after rocks learned to speak—
who will never say water
cannot be found and is not life.
© Michael Mahoney, 2011
[Opening lyrics from “Against Pollution” 
   by The Mountain Goats]

Dandelion; photo by Tony Russell

Monday, May 2, 2011

come-in-unity (community)

for a brief time
we come into your lives
hoping to find
an open mind
and comfort in humankind

a clenched fist knocks on your door
eager to release it and reach for
a connection between two strangers, a cause and “come in!”
for this truly is where social justice begins

although we cannot step into your house
we will gladly talk with you about
the issues that bother you and what you want to see changed
for you deserve to be listened to
when you call out those issues that need to be named

how close the houses are in proximity
but how distant they feel from unity
too many voices have been silenced
by those who choose fear over kindness
whose sharp words bleed verbal violence

with all the pain and discrimination in this world
i can’t help but wonder what we all are here for
is it not to come in to people’s lives and find
the unifying Humanity that resides    
in the grateful smiles and hands that we shake
in the long lasting connections that we make

for a brief time
we come into your lives
searching to find
like-minds

and although it may be hard to believe
you hold all the power that you need
to transform your situation and community

for when open doors meet open minds
possibilities fill the sky
and we can change all that is unjust and wrong
we can create a community of which everyone belongs

for in this small space
between a front door and welcome mat
our Humanity brushes up against each other
and we exchange just that

for what is a community (come-in-unity) based on but
different people willing to open up
to each other and each concern
for justice is something everyone deserves

and because there will always be
interns working for VOP
who unite under justice and equality
we cannot be discouraged, we cannot weep or cry
because we are standing up for people whose access is denied

therefore, we will continue to door knock
and adopt front porches as our own
for like front porch flowers
there will always be room for hope to grow
© Jona Noelle Baily, 2011

Flower with room to grow; photo by Tony Russell