All these faces
The goslings are docile and soft,
Gingerly pecking at the grass
Because that’s what mama does,
Because the belly makes demands,
Because it will be their life’s work.
To feed and float.
Fly away when the need comes,
But for now,
The flush of youth is blooming.
Love
Love is not a matter of degrees
Love cannot be measured
Love is present
Or absent
We may falter in knowing how
To express love,
To overcome selfishness,
To defeat our childhood demons,
To be victorious in loving.
But when we fail,
We still love.
If we are wise,
We accept our frailty and submit to Love;
We persevere.
For only Love draws
The best parts
From those we love,
Helps them overcome selfishness
And defeat their childhood demons.
Only Love
Can set us free to love.
For My Friend
Hours whiled in the afternoon,
On a porch beneath
The persistent rain,
On a holiday
Or an ordinary any-day.
Moments spent as legal tender,
Exchanged for the joy of
Rapturous laughter.
Years of knowing
And growing alongside.
Our friendship is a twine
Winding through our fibers
Until our lives are
Unrecognizable without them.
A day is never better lived
Than in the the company
Of my friend.
She is my sister
I have not seen her face in
Nine years
The sound of her voice
The smell of her hair
Fades from my memory
I strain to retain the details
In vain
Her face and the light in her eyes
Remains imprinted on my soul
She is my sister
Her dreams for the future
Give me treasured fantasy
I could call
She could answer
“Happy Birthday!” I’d say
“I love you,” I’d say
My sister, forever my little sister
Forever full of promise
Frozen in her beautiful youth
Permanent and fading
A light I shall always
Be honored to carry
A couple on over-exertion:
Heavy Burdens
Who are you,
Untended, untamed?
Measuring your moments
With uncertain pride.
When you carry
Your burden
And drag your reasons
Unrestrained.
So Tired
One thing begets another
Until I am swimming
In a sea of obligation,
Until I miss the sight of land
For the clamoring masses
Buoyed by the promise of
A moment to come.
I must confess. I have been remiss for days. I have written a few poems but have failed to post. Instead I have bumbled to and fro from one thing to another. Busy, busy, busy. So here I go. I attempt to redeem myself for this National Poetry Writing Month. I vow to post a poem for each day of April even if some are posted in May.
April Showers
Soggy feet
Wading in green.
Heavy petals droop
And drip
And drain.
The earth,
Long past slaked,
Thick and bloated,
Bursting with bounty,
Oblivious
To the drought
Summer will bring.
Content to absorb
And bloom.
Treasure
A friend in the chaos
A lifeline,
A light in the fog
A friend eternal
One who knows you
One who sees
From whence you came
And cares not,
Loves you more
For the knowing
Who longs to know more
Than your past
Who seeks you
In your today,
In your struggle
Who knows you,
In your becoming
Who can be
Days and weeks and
Lifetimes apart But is never more than
A breath away from your heart.
Transference
A token,
An open hand.
A kindness
In and throughout
We weave the threads;
We orchestrate.
Illuminating our truest,
Our deepest aims.
We reach out
From our own depths
With surprising resource.
We find we are more
When we allow ourselves
To be less.
In honor of all you late-filing crazies, waiting in line at the post office:
Tax Day
Taxes are taxing for the Taxed.
Add this, subtract that.
Multiply by the ratio of these and those.
Deduct your right arm,
Spin around twice
And take the sum.
And for heaven’s sake,
Don’t be late!
Gloria Chanson 