The Poetry Marathon

My therapist asked me if I was ready

to open myself up to a relationship.

Hell no!

A chuckle and not two weeks later,

I turned around, and there you were.

Not someone new

but someone I never really saw before.

And now I can’t imagine not seeing you,

a gift I never expected,

exactly what I needed.

If, in fact, we are staring into an abyss we will someday call the New Dawn of man,

it might be helpful to consider how we will construct such a new world order.

We would be wise to remind ourselves of what we have gone through

and to examine how we collectively bought into such a warped and unbalanced status quo in the first place.

Remember the outright lies we fed our children; ones that we suckled on and were also fed to our fathers:

you won’t be successful unless you earn a college degree; you have to win at all costs; beggars can’t be choosers;

if you give someone a free ride they’ll just want more; at least we are better than those people.

I think it would also be wise to strive for collaborative leadership wherever we can

and prayerfully consider restructuring our economy so that grossly saturated portfolios

are not automatically considered a mark of God’s favor but of irresponsibility and greed.

We’ve got to develop some cultural cajones and call out our wanton lust for money and power.

And nowhere in our new world should poverty and hunger be acceptable. Nowhere.

The Beatles sang All we need is love. Well, maybe that sounds cheezy, and certainly that’s not ALL we need,

but it would be a freakin’ good start.

In this crazy world that we live in

maybe it’s not that strange to believe

we are all just doing the best we can.

Surviving is sometimes all we can do

and there is no energy to go beyond.

But if we have the chance to flourish

and shine beyond the boundaries,

we should thank our lucky stars.

A better tomorrow is not promised to anyone,

but right now it sure looks like we at least

have the chance to try.

your naked back waits

and quivers under my touch

a mimosa leaf

In his hand, my lover carries plants and fertilizer and growing things. That’s what I love about him; he is a force for good. His is sacred work, tending to gardens like a modern-day St. Francis, a steward of creation. Against the backdrop of global pandemics and uncertainty, he gently considers the sacredness of life as he constructs our Garden of Eden.

Our children’s children will ask us what we did when the world was burning

when the people were rioting

when the police were killing

when the children were separated from their mothers

when the nations closed their borders for fear of being infected

when folks were hunted down for loving the wrong person,

and what will we say?

Will we cough up some lame excuse?

Will be spin alternative truths for convenience?

Will we dismiss their comments and tell them they are too young to understand?

Or will we be able to show our children how we manifested love in spite of everything?

I choose the side of love.

        roses

       intoxicating, vibrant

        breathing, growing, clutching

           climbers, thorns, bush, hybrid, winner

opening, closing, releasing

            pink, dewy

sex

And in this hour of need, when the people are getting restless to leave their homes and restless to work, restless for race equity and restless for gender equality, who shall save us? Will it be the man standing in as president? Will it be the World Health Organization? Will it be the CDC and the many doctors and scientists who have been relegated by the media? Will the Lord Jesus Christ come and save us from ourselves? Or will we be the ones who will have to step up and vote and free this noose from around our necks? Love is the answer, people. Peace and love and all the hippie talk is true. It’s really the same message as the Christian walk; some of us have just forgotten that part of the bible.

I love my new app that identifies the plants in my yard. Before working in the flower beds, I identify the weeds and saplings. Several gifts from the birds have sprouted: black cherry, peach, and fig tree babies. Enough, I think, to start a little fruit orchard next to the crabapple. Little by little, paradise is taking root and, like Adam and Eve, we can have everything we need here and never have to leave. Is that as tempting for you as it is me?

Breathlessly, I run through Walmart with my mask on, avoiding all the maskless shoppers who stare at me as if I am a freak. They are a gaggle of children and nonessentials, lollygagging and taking up the width of the aisles. I am clear-eyed and focused, steam rising from behind my mask and fogging up my glasses. They are out on an excursion, tired of being holed up, if ever they were. All I’m thinking as I grab milk and eggs is I want to go home and cocoon with you and never leave.