a gentle sigh, an allowance, releasing
that which has held a clutching grip
for longer than i can possibly fathom–
the simplicity of breathing in and out,
finding my breath in full–
the grief that i didn’t know existed
to flow gently down my cheeks–
making tracks through the garden dust
the mourning of an idea
in the precious, innocent mind
of a child– the unclenching fingers–
cramped and mangled by the fist they
were unaware they held. the barking–
an audible cry to
that i have lost something–
released a cherished idea that was
so deeply rooted that i recognized it
as my own flesh– knew it as i know my
heartbeat and the gentle rhythm of my breath.
an idea so constant and fixed that i can’t fathom
its inception– but as it crumbles it brings with it
such joy and ease (through the tears).
A tender understanding of something
that has always been waiting in the wings–
poised for the moment when the spotlight shone
and my recognition dawned–
that family is fluid
an easy, flowing dance without destination–
teeming with laughter and sometimes sadness,
a little anger and frustration thrown in for good measure–
but always continuous
like water in a stream, or the eb and flow
of the ocean tides
is only capable of creating
4 thoughts on “on fluidity”
this is awesome – I love the way you keep coming back to the body as the poem moves to its concluding.
thanks. i love the way you pointed out something to me about the poem that i hadn’t even noticed– so nice to reread with someone else’s thoughts in mind. i really love your poetry and appreciate your comments immensely.
you did an awesome thing here, making us FEEL what is essentially an invisible, inner process. (and thank you for your kind comments!)
wow. thank you. i guess i did– which makes sense, since i’m a feeler and poetry is in large part a processing of my feelings. so nice for you to articulate these things for me. really and truly, thanks.