October 23
WAITING FOR THE RECOVERY OF OTHERS
I sit on my hands and wait for these bright pennies to earn
the lessons of time. I dance my little
dance and move on, dropping the pretense of patience. I search other forests, fields, and meetings
and encounter many fine plums, though none are the gems incubating at
home. I make acceptance my goal and
breathe through my days. I watch the
bulbs ripen and bloom. I wonder at their
beauty, inhale their sweetness. I have
lost track of my personal progress. I
behold, with charmed dismay, the open chasm before me. I must turn from the flowers and let the new
lessons begin.
Don’t show your
broken places to everyone, but do show them to someone.
*
Spectrum
The quality of the poetry
is so dependent on the quality of the lighting.
Improve the color palette and yes, you’ve guessed the
result.
So, I say to you, “Turn up the lights.
Do not write in half-dark grief and limp through the words.
Spotlight what you can and illuminate the rest.
You needn’t make a sound,
needn’t pitch a tent, needn’t build a bridge,
though you may, may if you wish.
And wish is what I do, wish for better light
and when the clouds break loose in the sky let the sun pour
in.
I lift my pen and make it all;
for what was needed was this better light.”
You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane
and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault
