Here is the latest installment of Poet’s Corner, presented by the Edmonds-based EPIC Poetry Group
Sleep has abandoned me.
Awake my soul, my senses, myself.
Go out through darkness
to those lights you left, unremembered.
There they all are! Orion, Pleiades,
the Big Dipper and orienting North Star!
The elusive Milky Way, Jupiter, Mars!
My knees are too old to fall upon.
But I must bend low, lean back,
sit still…and weep.
The heavens still declare
the glory of God.
Awakened, I watch, and I hear
the still, small voice –
loud as any galaxy.
~ ~ ~ ~
Country in the City
We have giant rhodies
as tall as our house.
Our umpteen bird feeders,
have brought us a mouse.
Some bunnies hole up
down under our bushes.
Hippy hop through the grass
go their cute little tushes!
Oodles of birds
fly in daily to visit.
If they ever didn’t,
OH, how we would miss it.
Two coons wrestled madly
on our springy green lawn.
In years past we have spied them
late dusk or at dawn.
“Squirrels?”, you ask me.
Yes! Agile and clever,
they do not give up
and they never say never!
some deer and – a bear!
have poked about town
when we were not aware.
I have not yet mentioned
the insects or moles.
They’re not quite our favorites
when they bite or dig holes.
From my poem, who would guess
that we live in a city?
Country critters all over –
it makes me just giddy!
~ ~ ~ ~
I was the one with all that energy.
The quick walker, the doer,
moving, moving, the busy bee-er.
I felt younger than many my age,
and maybe even better.
Now I’m the one who is slower.
A much older man man passed me up
on my limpy walk through a cemetery.
The foot surgeon said I’m doing great,
but healing is long. And so slow.
My vision slid quickly downhill,
blurring daily life.
It quietly stole confidence to drive
towards adventure or in the dark.
Healing from eye-surgery is quick, thank God.
A forced sabbatical (so my friend framed it)
has been what I need to go low.
To be slowed, dependent, the sitter;
definitely no better than anyone at all.
Just a limited person in liminal space.
Gracious gifts from God and medicine,
from people who’ve helped and healed
have reset the pace of my soul.
May I be one who slows and stops to listen,
who sees clearly enough to walk
where Love is leading.
~ ~ ~ ~
Denise Meade is a 32-year Edmonds resident, where she and her husband have raised and launched four kids, and have loved investing in and being a part of this growing community. An on-again, off-again, very amateur poet since her early teens, she was happily surprised to be warmly welcomed in to the EPIC Poetry Group. She is also an amateur photographer and occasionally puts both creative outlets together, especially as inspired by nature.