Poetry Corner

by Kathie Bird

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Back To Creative Works · Poetry Corner · It Has To Be A Poem · I Am · Her world was of her mind · Boomer Baby 1 & 2 · Family Secret · It's Play · my hen is ready · Pottery 2 · Half a melon ago· An Ordinary Workday · Hold Fast · The Possibilites · Rebirth · Three Travellers · So Many Suffer · Wind Whisper 1 · Wind Whisper 2 · Vignettes 1 · Vignettes 2 · Our Journey · Ordinary Folk

Boomer Baby Part 1, 1985 She came into your world of Walt Disney on Sunday nights and accordion lessons and camping in a trailer wedding dances in that prairie town hall food heaped high curled up bread and she tried to learn your dance wanting to wear those ribbons in her hair cradled in her hand your intricate egg impossible design rendered by a grandmother's shaking hand she never saw performed nor understood why she would take to wandering to the forest at the end of the street spending long precious moments tracing leaf veins with fingertips and hear the hymns of breeze in the trees then she'd wander still in the silence of her room to the far reaches of her mind beyond the gates of knowing she could go further if she tried her path was not apparent among bellows blowing sounds beribboned dancers coloured eggs faded photos of stoic-faced farmers she had to say goodbye and untie your disquiet to seek her path from where you stood she found pleasure eagerly dove its pool to explore its depths but was lifted back to surface she searched the eyes of the suffering that their lessons might be the way but those lessons were not hers to claim yet her quest led to this misty place of glowing truth that sparked her yearning still she's bowed before the shrine to taste the truth in wine and wafer by eagle wings she met the truth connected to the land and the mist grew brighter clearer in the words of eastern plans so she drew the truth within you toiled forth from earth and grain proud vessels holding dear the victories of plight and gave to her dim pictures of your path that ends at hers watch her turn and cross her bridge and peer into the mist that glows she hesitates to enter yet her place is to explore she's found her own beginning and can follow many roads

Boomer Baby Part 2, 2005 She’s grown. At midpoint. The chug-click of the climb is behind her now. She can see the expanse. She is at home at this height. Her vision is clear. It’s a ride with ease from here - a glee at the pull of challenge and the weightlessness of knowing. She pauses at this apex for a longer moment. Awonder at the past - how time compresses all ablations and elations into a foreshortened undulation behind her. Memories like fireflies flitting among accordion grooves: music, dance, tears, shouts, black heavy nights, trees, warmth, family, frets, prayer, flowers, birth, death. An emptiness filled with stars where you her father once lived and craters filled with fresh spring water where once dwelt old loves. She’s come so close - allowed love to fill her every cell, then known the sigh of each cell in the task of letting go. She’s breathed her truth - in and out. It's filled her with new gifts.