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Thursday, December 30, 2021

Embrace Your Shadows

 
—Poetry by Claire J. Baker, Pinole, CA
—Photos Courtesy of Public Domain
 
 

CAR AS UMBRELLA

Shielded from a misty rain
awaiting a friend’s return,
I watch the windshield’s
willy-nillyness with water,
how droplets gather
yet won’t slide
until more rain swells
& loosens their grip on glass

& the center cannot hold.
A rain-tear slips down
charismatically, swerving
in a random path,
dipsy-doodle dodging
the most determined drops.

No errand-rush, friend,
these slip-slides fascinate. 
 
 
 

 
 
AN ECHO

How resonant
to activate
the five chimes
in my hearing aids—

nearly the same
first five notes
of Franz Lizst’s
Un Sospiro, a sigh…
 
 
 

 
 
SORROW…

Where does sorrow go when
it finally lifts away—
to Sara’s Dark Side of The Moon?

Does sorrow cling unseen
to under-leaves of a maple tree
a place we don’t explore or see?

Once grief is spent, will it fill
an empty nest, fledglings flown,
repairing it for next winter’s home?

Does sadness from shame and guilt,
that one is speechless to explain,
find a chamber in a cave

halfway up a mountainside
where it can hide, honing its talent for:
going through pain and growing from it?


(prev. pub. in Benicia-Herald, 9-17-21)
 
 
 

 
 
CONTEMPLATION CAVE                  

Arriving at a crossroad
in yet another rite of passage,
she enters a mystical cave.
Cobwebs drape her body
with a filmy haze;
debris bruises her feet.        

Suddenly she wonders why
she came to earth in human flesh,
not in fur. Am I a tiger or tame cat?
she asks. What does change require?
Does a Sisyphean-like boulder
await my personal mythology?   

Bats hang like huge black figs
on dank walls; sleeping bears stir.
She hopes to one day answer
Mary Oliver’s probing question:
What do you plan to do with your
one wild and precious life?
 
 
 

 
 
TALK ABOUT TIMING!

Just as
I was
trying to
disentangle
myself,
ask
my shadows
how they began
&
would they
ever mellow,  
a host
on KQED/SF
intoned
Embrace
Your
Shadows.
 
 
 

 
 
VILLAGE COFFEE

We sip
a rare
brew
wintery
hands
cradling
warm cups
in a cozy café
lacy curtains
small maple tables
aglow… Relaxing
we grow more at ease
with cares, decisions
unique sudden fantasies
&, wonderfully, with each other.
 
 
 

 
 
FREE-FLOWINGLY YOURS

The hairs at nose-tip quiver.
And I know by the gnawing
in my craw,
the shift in my hips,
the flip-flop of my eyelids,
the slice of pie
awaiting as reward.

And I know by the wing-tilt
of my incoming angel,
all pale and papery,
that I need to propel
a peppy poem
from my pen.
Right? Okay, write!

______________________

Today’s LittleNip:

PERSIMMON
after Farmers’ Market

Returned home
eager to see
the wonder
we cut
sideways
through
the middle
and there it is
in crisp fruit fiber—
a star.

______________________

—Medusa, with thanks to Claire Baker for her fine poetry and for her photo of herself with giraffes, noting what lovely creatures they are. 
 
 
 

 





 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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