THERE’S MORE: THE SONSTILL REVEALING OURSELVES TO HIM,
AND MORE AGAIN,
OURSELVES TO EACH OTHER
Grief cascading beliefeach breath a miracle
disbelieving its own fact,
impossibility of arrival
Great gulps of grieving
Did all this happen that fast
Can the best of a family story
be told in one week
I think it can
February 27-4 March 2013
Not something known
Here, not here
March 1-3, 2013
For whenever the hero stormed through the stations of love,
Each heartbeat intended for him lifted him up, beyond it; and,
turning away, stood there, at the end of all smiles, transfigured.
Rainer Maria Rilke, The Sixth Elegy
For Tyler Johnson 7-26-1981 / 2-19-2009
already called to language and the sea.
He dreams the world inside Maple Valley forest.
waiting for the train at Atocha Station.
waiting for Kelli. They sail the wild
their parents to their wedding in
one family celebrating young love in guayaberas.
He rises in the dark with Kelli
on Thursday and takes his wife
to the hospital to begin the work
of bringing their daughter into the world.
He leaves her to further his mission.
We have come to witness and to validate.In another hospital, he enters the tunnel
of the MRI. The tumor inside his head
has been crowding his ideas,
interfering with his vision. He emerges
and sits before another physician
who fits him with a face mask to protect him
from the radiation that is coming.
His oncologist will talk with him now.
But he has bigger work to do,
And time. He returns to Kelli
in the other hospital and washes up.
He puts on the blue clothes of creation.
He brings his daughter, Evelyn, into the world.
He cuts the umbilical cord.
His work still isn’t done.
He will hold and feed her.
He will bring his wife and daughter home.
They need to find her middle name.
Is it chance or fate that lands on Lucilia?
Evelyn Lucilia, both names meaning light—Light squared. Light doubled.
This week they will greet friends,
Take pictures, make movies, tell stories.
They will get it all done in a week.Seven days is all they need.
A life time’s work in seven days.
Blessings on this life.
24 February 2009
FRESH WATER WELL-WITCHED
—for my sister Vonnie
The monk builds purity
into the wordbuilding on hopelessness
What keeps coming up
for me in dreams
is what he did, that young man
that last week
he was with us—
the reality of wonder
What the monk says
is thisWhen all hope is gone
left with hopelessness
is purist hope
No bucket holds
bubbles in the well
26 February 2013