It has been a long time, friends. I haven't added to my blog page since we moved to New Hampshire over three years ago.
I am feeling the need for more poetry in my life. I need it now more than ever. In all its forms. So, I offer them to you. Maybe one a week, or more, or less, depending on how the spirit moves in me.
I will let you know they are here. I hope they resonate with you.
I recently read this poem, The Thing Is, by Ellen Bass. And I thought of my nephews' friend who just died too young. Of all of us who have faced loss, whether a loved one or a cherished part of our lives.
To accompany the poem, I've added photos from a 2016 hike Jonathan and I took on Mt. Adams through a burn. Amidst all those blackened trees, life.
The Thing Is
to love life, to love even
when you have no stomach for it
and everything you've held dear
crumbles like burnt paper in your hands,
your throat filled with the silt of it.
When grief sits with you, its tropical heat
thickening the air, heavy as water
more fit for gills than lungs;
when grief weights you like your own flesh
only more of it, an obesity of grief,
you think, How can a body withstand this?
Then you hold life like a face
between your palms, a plain face,
no charming smile, no violet eyes,
and you say, yes, I will take you
I will love you, again.
-- Ellen Bass
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