Black and Bone White
Peel back a corner of the wallpaper...
Welcome, and a warm first hello to the newcomers!
I’m so happy you’re here.
Each of these Sunday poetry collections centers loosely around a tarot card, and this week, we’re checking back in with The Magician. This card reminds the user that various points of view exist, and change is possible.
We’re never stuck.
Contents:
Third Option
Questions I’m Avoiding
Obvious Needs
Suggested background music:
THIRD OPTION A secret third option always exists. Do not be fooled by binary choices: It’s nearly impossible, I promise, For something to be black-and-bone-white strict. Peel back a corner of the wallpaper. There is a small hinge: near-invisible, Yet, stubbornly existent, though covered. It waits for curious fingers to pull Back the veil that was hung long ago By well-intentioned hands, now skeletons. Sunlight can burn or it can help you grow: If you’re lucky, a balance will be found. A secret third option always exists. It’s your job to keep wondering: “What if?”
QUESTIONS I'M AVOIDING Some questions are too hidden to be witnessed all at once: Must instead, be carved free from their stone with tools all-gone-blunt. Mom, why did you hate me so much? I did not steal your light. I am sunshine all on my own, no thievery was done. Why is it that a metal watering can surrounds that Which will destroy it if left unattended for too long? Dad, where were you when I was terrified and getting hit? Could you not stand to believe that your wife was in the wrong? Spine, what made you spiral rather than growing straight and tall? Can you find a way to carry me through life, to stay strong? Preschool teacher, did you really need to shake me so hard? I thought we use our words to tell each other what we want. Older brother, you asked me why I have to upset Mom. We play on the same station, but we’re very different songs. Lizzy, where did you come from, and how long will you remain? What things are you here to teach me, what lessons have you brought?
OBVIOUS NEEDS
The houseplants are getting showers today.
That is something real that I can control.
(I checked the news briefly, but could not face
A blown-apart world that should exist whole.)
Inside my safe home, rain patters green leaves
Grown large with support from tall trellises.
(Over the years, a pothos vine will weave
Into knots. As the light moves, it will shift.)
Commuters, fueled up with morning brew,
The leaves reach, snappy once more, to the sky.
I help them, they help me: it’s what we do.
They move me when it feels useless to try.
I cannot dictate what the world will be.
All I can do is meet obvious needs.
Are you, or someone you know, the type who likes to read physical books?
Snag your copy of my debut print memoir, Give It A Home, today. (Makes a lovely holiday gift!)
So beautiful (and all so completely different).