I am honored to have my poet friend Holly Grantham guest posting here today. She and I have been friends through poetry, writing and blogging and have even partnered together on a poetry series entitled Adagio: A Poetry Project. Holly and I played with words on the page from miles upon miles apart, penning three poems. (The offerings in this series may be found at the end of Holly’s guest post). While the project is on a pause of sorts, Holly’s words continue to bring me joy. She is an artist and crafts beautiful poetic prose and poetry.
In her poem entitled Here, Holly’s words sing of her unique perspective on this life. And yet we hear, feel and even crawl into the space Holly inhabits. Holly invites. She delights. And her art is extraordinarily crafted.
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Here
I’m cooking dinner and
only because the days are getting longer
does the light still filter in
through the clouded window that
needs replacing
The pane is nearly opaque
but not muddled enough
to keep my eye from catching
the fluttering of a bird at the feeder
repositioning himself
to find more seed
While I cut broccoli
the baby sits on the counter
flapping his arms
like the bird outside
screeching with glee
drool dripping like honey
from his mouth
the bud of a tooth peeking
out from swollen gums
I set down the knife
and sip my wine in the pause
while through the tilted glass I can see
the edges of the room stained
crimson and swirling
catching light
glowing
Floating atop the life noise
clattering within these walls
a quiet song sways with being here
now
and I freeze
because something down deep
is stirred and righted
and in a twinkling the words of
Buechner that I read earlier today are
tangible and throbbing
framing the moment
as miracle
I’m remembering now
how every morning
glory pools in my lap while I’m
nursing my babe
legs crossed and warm
eyes still drowsy with sleep
and I’m afraid I miss it most days
in the wanting something more
I look back out the window and
the light has dimmed
but is tinged with orange now
the bird has gone but
the baby shouts a loud hallelujah
and I turn to him
his eyes flickering candles
Yes
I am here
now
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Holly pens beauty at her writing home A Lifetime of Days . Follow her on twitter @HollyAGrantham .
Adagio: A Poetry Project is currently comprised of three offerings. The first, entitled Writing Across The Distance may be found here, the second entitled Black Night Of Hope may be read here and the third Les Mains
Reblogged this on Lavender Turquois.
Thank you for reposting!
Ah Lovely, Holly. The pooling of presence. The now. The crimson light. Grace. Thank you.
Thank you, Anne-Marie, for your kind words and gracious spirit here.
I went running this morning. Something was different in the frosted-over earth. Something that caught my attention, much like your window-glass and your baby hallelujah and even the broccoli that falls apart beneath the knife. The thought was so loud and intrusive that I laughed right out loud when it came: HERE. I AM HERE. (imagine this with the thump, thump, thump of my footsteps, keeping rhythm …)
Oh, the glory of it all.
Elizabeth is right, Holly. This is pure invitation, this one. Thanks for your hospitality. 🙂
We ARE here and we always are and it never stops. And it right duplicates in grace when we recognize it as the pervasive and passionate presence, always wooing, always singing over us…
beautiful. i like poetry and I love you.
And oh how I love you, too, Alia. Thank you for always championing me.
Some days are here, there, everywhere. Your poetry helped pull me into Here. Your chosen words are mind pictures that put me in the frame of Here. Thank you.
Thank you, Mom. Your here is somewhere wherein I am always glad to find myself.