Commitment To Seeing It Through

There is an edge.
A stonewall in a meadow.
Moss covered ground stones.

The meadow is full of flowers.
Both sides just as colorful.
Just as lovely.

You are injured.
You drowse with your back against the wall.
Head bent under your broad brimmed hat.

Your gentle breath pushes the breeze.
Just as easily it takes the breeze inside you.
You are unaware of the sweat bees on your arm.

Within your sleep you feel stings.
It is not the bees.
It is the memory dream of a CSI episode.

The sun shines equally on both sides of the stonewall.
The wildflowers snuggle up against the stones.
In some places they are high enough to hide the low wall.

Your father stands on the other side.
Swallowtail butterflies decorate his bare arms.
His bare feet bear dirt from his walk to this location.

Your mother waits on this side.
She calls out to you to finish your math homework.
To come to the kitchen for milk and cookies.

Her calling wakes you.
You stand. The bees take their leave.
Your shadow casts itself across the stonewall.

Your shadow alters its angle on the other side.
Confused, you pull back from your father.
You notice the greenery grows at different angles as well.

You walk across the field toward your mother.
Not because she called you. But for yourself.
Nothing to do with television characters.

Who grow louder as you cross the meadow.
You return to the antiseptic room with white walls.
Your mother reads aloud a poem from Now We Are Six.

copyright © 2021 Kenneth P. Gurney

Pluck

The Blue Woman has an ordinary body.
Overlooked, when young, except
by those people who met her penetrating eyes.

I stood under that gaze.
It sees me day and night. It laid me bare.
Started me toward the hallows.

Twenty years on and she has not released me.
But now, the gravity of her eyes is normal,
accepted, and a comfort.

Her eyes plucked my soul from my body
and I walked the landscape of experience,
toward the holy wells

where healing occurs,
a deep thirst quenched.
I learned to see myself with her eyes,

through her wholehearted love.
A love practiced until it became as natural as breath
and I reclaimed my body as my own.


copyright © 2019 Kenneth P. Gurney

Long As It Takes

This poem’s purpose is to heal you.
It is antiseptic and an antiviral.

It will kill all that festering shit
that constantly loops through your brain.

It will kill all those circulating internet memes
that numb your heart.

This poem reminds you of your value.
This poem rebuilds your self-esteem.

This poem supplies words
when you require them.

This poem remains hushed
when silence is what you need.

It exposes all your flaws and fractures
so you may see your truth.

It reminds you and your body
there is no deadline for getting adulthood right.


copyright © 2019 Kenneth P. Gurney