the summer solstice...or summer monsoon...approaches...warm days...flip flops...the memory of thousand pound snow boots recedes...and yet, i feel blue...father's day weekend...it is the same for many...and while i am thankful for having a truly wonderful father-in-law...while my heart is warmed when watching lauren and michael together...this year...after so many...the loss of my father tugs at me...the passage of time changes loss...never erases it...for those of you celebrating with your dad this weekend...enjoy that blessing...for all the dads, bask in your special day...and for those of you with that ache in your heart...think of the funniest, best memory of your dad...and smile...i usually don't put my poems in my blog...but here is one...
shiva
i was left wanting
in your absence
despite the earth
the sun
the sky
the glory of those treasures,
like stale crumbs trailing
a hungry mouse's refusal,
the temptation in vain
imagining your laughter
dancing in a cool morning rain
as a poet i realize that so much of my intent is not only in the lines...but in between them as well...the true mark of success - when your readers find themselves in both...but when i hit "the wall"...as i often do...and cannot write...i read...and being "old school" and proud of it...that means holding a book in my hands...maybe one hot off the press...crisp, with that inky odor wafting from the pages...or from a discounter...worn a bit, with curled corners...or to really feed my nerdy soul...a library book...complete with food and coffee stains from previous borrowers...a bookmark left behind...notes scribbled in the corners...which makes me imagine who held this book before...did they love it...hate it...did it push them to pull out a pen and paper...laptop...or phone...and get those thoughts, feelings and ideas down...twist them...flip them...and find meaning on the other side...and so as i dismay over a drought of words...and look for a book on my bookshelf...i think a train ride is needed....think i need to walk up those stairs between the lions on 42nd street...hold the fruits of writers that came before me in the palms of my hands...hoping for sweet inspiration as the summer heat toasts my brain!
