Saturday, October 22, 2011

Along an Avenue of White Elms in the Sun

yellowing at their tops,
how I would too
change for you,
in a glad wave
curl up
to your voice,
warm-dark oscillation,
my green edges
bending to yours.
I asked only for open eyes
before the night’s wild shards
brushed over.
And I see.
I see with my hands
reaching up
to touch dear limbs
ageless aging,
all beauty,
ever-changing.

5 comments:

  1. somehow the title married to the rhyme and meter of the poem gives me such a feeling of completion. is this yet another form of witnessing or is this about awareness?

    i asked only for open eyes

    xo
    erin

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  2. Thanks for reading, Erin.
    I am disappointed in this one. The title I like, it's rather Chinese, I'd like to think. I meant for this to be about awareness, but it doesn't convey all I wanted it to. I was at the start of a new relationship and also new to therapy. All my therapist asked of me was to be aware. I realized as I was walking along an avenue of white elms yellowing in early October in the sunshine, that I was at the point of changing for the new person in my life. I was glad both for the awareness and for the realization that I was consciously starting something. To me it was a sign that I was serious about this, because I was contemplating concessions to the new love. As it happened however, there was only so far I could bend. My new alertness to self brought up new ways of self-care and ways I refused to change. So, what did I mean to say?
    I saw the yellowing tree tops and thought how I would yellow and bend to what I thought was your desire. And I was glad. Glad as the sun. Glad as the stretching limbs. Glad to fall.

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  3. It's beautiful. This vulnerability, this hope.

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  4. >>warm-dark oscillation,
    my green edges
    bending to yours.

    I really like this part,
    warm the feeling into
    dark the visual
    but it goes just right.

    Well put! Thank you for the poem!

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  5. As it happened however, there was only so far I could bend. My new alertness to self brought up new ways of self-care and ways I refused to change. So, what did I mean to say?

    and who has the answers, jane? who can say, this is the way and not the other? this is fascinating, isn't it? i came out of my last relationship so surprised by where the changes happened so naturally and yet so many of them changes i'd not have chosen consciously (in spite of believing i had been conscious) and where the other changes rested like bowls of sand i was unwilling to knock over. it is all a mystery, really. all we can do is press to be aware and then make the choices but we can never make the choices (if we want some kind of personal success) based on what something someone else suggests. we must make the choices and learn and fail and then decide again.

    in a new relationship, feeling blessed, i look at myself much the way you looked at the trees as you were walking. the change in inevitable, but perhaps if we do not crush ourselves with proximity, perhaps if we exercise our selves like distinct little pink muscles, perhaps we can maintain our selves, grow, and love. i don't know. it is all rather confusing.

    how is your new love going? how is life? i miss you in this space.

    i think your poem is more successful than you think.

    xo
    erin

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