2:00 a.m.

                                                                 

We are to write about 2:00am today at  dversepoets.com





A friend drove us to the hospital -
April birds chirping (cheering?) wildly
I saw the moon in an ocean of night,
next to Mt. Rainier
Contractions 5 minutes apart,
Orion on my shoulder near
....2:00 a.m....toilet seat cold ...
grey green hallways, operating room,
Warm lights yellow gold,
voices in the background,
handsome doctor's face,
Of course fierce pain,
but instinctively borne,
erased by a spinal block,
none too soon
6 hours later
I heard a sweet cry,
soft, tho -
then you were in the crook
of my right arm,
you gave me a reassuring look -
serene, and with your eyes you said
"Hi Mom, it's ok,
I'm here now..for the long run"
I conveyed the same thought to you
We knew each other already,
but it was the intimate focus,
the eye to eye contact
that moved me so
Immediate recognition
in that moment we had waited for-
almost as if we had lived it
a thousand times before
In your eyes, my mother's eyes -
tender and caring, yet keen,
sure and thirsty for life
I'm sure I visibly smiled,
as awe enveloped me -
when I realized two hearts
two souls, were we,
apart now, instead of as one
You were so pretty, as always,
but I am prejudiced, I know
...so began our journey
45 years ago

The Color of Emotion

At  dversepoets.com today, Bjorn asks us to write about opposites....of any kind....

Blood spattered is

50 shades of red -

only God knows how many

 tucked into a rainbow,

splashed in an emotional field 

 How deep the Red Sea ?
How inviting, the red lantern's
warm glow!

The flamingo's blush
feather coat is easy on the eye -
as is nature's bed of greens,
browns, and blues
 that anchors us

Tall reeds of sea grass thrive
 in a cool smooth lake,

 a mottled grosbeak nearby

Red tomato, hot tamale!

A bonfire spits skyward -

the green flame,
 jealousy discarded

Red is the wood of my violin 

that plays "you left too soon"

Red velvet is the night
against the moon

Colors azure, peach, sand
and sage - palette of the beach
keeps us sane,
as do hazy earthen rows

of homes and trees on a
Tuscan plain, muted
 paintings, masterpieces of art...
red is the color that reigns

 Jutting from my ankles,
although blue, red is the
blood running through my veins

The same can be said, it's true,
about the color of my heart
Red the velvet rose petals

against my cheek,
strewn on a pillow on a bed

Crayola's red is dull,

it's boldness taken away
Red is understood -
banner for ire, vendetta, hate -
but not for its transparency

 Lipstick on a collar, burnt sienna
blood stains on the sheets -
regrettable memories

Warm saffrons, magenta,
pinks have their place,
as does indigo -

but neutral colors and yellow
stand for nothing political
and I do believe them to be

......spiriting grace

Crescendoing

We are discussing layers in writing poetry today over at dversepoets.com - scratch the surface and there is more there -




When I was young and put my toe
in the sea, I felt
bantam waves warm and foamy,
like an extension of me
I had no words to describe it then
Each time I returned,
I had matured,
so I waded further,
feeling the undertow

I felt a thrill when I jumped higher
waves above my knees and then,
as they bumped against
my chest
Words like "cold, pulling, fear,
port and harbor, navigation
and bandoleer" came to me
My strong legs could withstand
the cantankerous tide's ebb and flow

I learned to catch a wave to ride
all the way in,
the moment to swim before the
swell broke into a
 long white ruffle
Now I could articulate what the sea
incited in me, its beauty, its draw,
its rushing to spread itself thinly
upon the outstretched sandy beach

The further out one adventures on
this graduating terrace,
the greater the cross currents each way
My ability to surf larger waves
let me see other horizons
The rolling sea of life,
its calm and its tempests,
waves that never cease

The sea awakened me
to a mystery - deeper and more
complex now is the study
Thus I write stories and poetry,
essays on nuances of what I see,
feel, touch and hear -
I sketch and paint the dangers
and joys of life,
its idiosyncrasies -
my observations of this living,
undulate, breathing
Delphic sphere