One day
I stopped running because
It occurred to me that the problem
With so many of the dreams I’d chased
And could not catch
Was the same problem I had found with
Child’s size shoes
At the early age of ten:
They were new, fashionable, pretty and
All my friends were wearing them.
I tried as hard as I could
To make them fit
But they were too small.
Sooner than I had expected,
I had grown into bigger things.
It breezes in from
Our open doors.
We left them ajar
On our way into this.
Sometimes that air
Soothes the tension
When it rises too fast
Or grows too heated,
At other times, it is drafty,
Frigid.It chills our bones and
Our limbs grow stiff.
Our hearts slow
To a deathlike rhythm
But no amount of pleading
Causes them to shut.
When the sun shines
The outside is welcome in.
But then the snow falls.
We sit in the cold
And wonder why
The doors refuse to close.
Are they open for air,
For that sweet gift of breath,
Or are they lying in wait,
Knowing and watching,
To provide an escape?
With each word
We create destiny.
With each step
We may spell tragedy
Or lasting prosperity.
We may choose action
Or wise regress.
Each life
Lives on in infamy
Or with revered,
Unforgotten thoughts of dignity
Each claiming immortality
Through choices to wound
Or to bless.
Remember, one person’s friend
Is another person’s enemy
And one person’s love
Is another person’s memory-
A reason to believe in humanity
A little more or
A little less.
To define the difference that
So widely separates
Me from you- it is like
Planets, worlds apart
With space and firmament between,
A resting prominence
Filling the air like
A long… pause
The silence you fear-
The ellipsis ever
Resting on my tongue-
The absence of speech, accented
With the promise to go on.
That separating distance-
That chasm among the stars-
Is like that between a subject…
And a predicate, an indication
Of a pause-for emphasis needed
When the action-
The verb-that intentional doing
Is to be heeded
With care-That pause created…
By a thrice dotted line.
The difference that separates
Me from you is that…
Some of us are that ellipsis,
Three parts to form
The whole, complete-
Like the thoughts formed
At the last of
Those long sentences
Read and comprehended
By patient minds.
Others of us are periods-
Single, pointed marks, quickly
Ending brief stories.
Waiting makes them…
Uncomfortable and silence…
Makes them anxious.
Things go left
Unfinished. They would prefer it
If stories that take long to tell
Just ended.
Me? I am the ellipsis-
The space between the planets-
Waiting, the pause in conversation
Before the ending is revealed.
That intricate,carefully woven,
Anticipated ending. To you, it is only
Silence. Silence…
Is your worst fear and…
That silence looks, to you,…
Like me-an ellipsis
Give to me direction.
Give me sight that I may see.
My destination at a distance
With conspicuous clarity.
The path is shadowed where I stand
By the willows overhead.
Color with the shadows blend
With my anticipation and my dread.
I hear a music in the distance.
It leads me on, leads me forward
A floral smell fills my senses.
The sound leads on, the path is blurred.
Only snap dragons, queen’s lace
Are visible from my shadow
I take in only the light that
Is filtered through willows
Through the ivy and purple violets.
A festival of nature’s elegance
Parts only for my feet to walk
To the door the door ahead, unknown e
Draw closer near the sun
With suddenness, it wakes me
Displaced, fractured thoughts of fields unknown
The light wakes us all, invites us to dance
From the dawn until evening
The dead old vines on the wall
That separates Charlestown
Are lent the knowledge of the sun
To grow in the light and have life again
The dormant lilac seeds are wakened
In the light, in coming warmer days
Are limbs still frozen solid, are muscles
Still stiff—still deadened? Or do they stir?
It was for this that the clay grew tall
The mad, relentless light toils
To break the sleep of all.
The key finally turns over, beginning the
Shaking cylinders, reverberating in constant motion.
Frigid air wraps around each ventricle
Inhibiting the progress of the lifeblood.
The engine, the column, the inward parts
Pound with excessive motion.
I can feel its heart pulse when I accelerate.
I wonder if the cold will break it.
Vibration pulsates through numb, panicked hands
And through each kinetic chamber
The lungs are deprived of warmth,
Deprived the privilege of free breath.
Momentum stops
And goes as the pieces
Join and separate
What makes things fit
While others dissipate?
We are joined
By common loves and
Common fears
Like the happenings of now
Pervading remaining years.
If we cannot see
Will we find a guiding hand?
Of an enemy or friend?
If we stand still
Will we ever move again?
If we stay close
To the universe we know
Will it continue to contain
The vastness of our souls
Or bring us only pain?
Momentum stops
As our misgiving ties us down.
How we long to run
And to move again
But only into the sun.
Only if we have sight
Of what lies ahead and
Knowledge that it leads to grace,
Not in a hopeless circle
Not back to the same place.
If it gets dark
Will there be a guiding hand?
Will it hold fast until the end?
If we stand still
Will we ever move again?
Two sides, two ways
A heart breaks
Much like the mind sways
From one to the other
Divided. But The Sea obeys
When God speaks and
Sometimes the most broken displays
Become paths to new beginnings
Heavy air, weighed down with Laurentian mist,
Sweltering with the welcome sun, sheds its drops
Into the skin along with floating pieces
Of life. Notes in motion, entering blood streams
Giving the mind and limbs vitality,
Pushing forth a revival of movement
Pushing forth into the unknown
Into bolder, brighter landscapes.
A part of each of us always remembers
Who taught us how to dance.
An electric current drowns out our cognition.
Wave after wave buries the pain
Washing away the hovering tension
Bringing the world to light through a covering
Bringing us to life, long awaited.
Let it fill you. Let the sound overcome
Every other thing under the sun.
Sinking into the soul, captivating, bringing freedom
Taking over every thought and every bone.
The notes-see and feel them all about you.
The music is the only
Thing that keeps the tide moving
Summer has come. We rejoice with song
The thing that keeps hearts beating,
One reality.
Poetry by Michaela B Decker 