“Instructions for living a life.
Tell about it.”
― Mary Oliver
“I was answered in spiritual understanding, and it was said: What, do you wish to know your Lord’s meaning in this thing? Know it well, love was his meaning. Who reveals it to you? Love. What did he reveal you? Love. Why does he reveal it to you? For Love…. So I was taught that love is our Lord’s meaning.”
~ St. Julian of Norwich
Sun’s out, bulbs are up, ducks have visited our swamp of a pool and left for someplace more appropriate to raise their family. April has committed herself to us, and with April comes Spring and National Poetry Month.
Poetry, hmmmm… sounds vaguely familiar.
I’ve been giving myself to writing, work days attached to my laptop more than anything else, other than necessary breaks for laundry and sleep. Yes, there was an amazing spiritual retreat over Easter where I broke from work and soaked in mystery. But, except for a brief trip and PUP in San Francisco, my poems haven’t been dusted off or hung up anywhere in months.
It’s time. Today.
So why? For love. For love of writing and sharing poetry. For love of those who may find a helpful word. For love of process. For love of myself. For love of God who has given me this day and this gift and this opportunity. For love.
Today. Kelowna. Downtown. Soon.
May love ambush you in the thick of things.
p.s. as I prepare to go out, I go in the warmth of knowing a friend is organizing a group of love letter writers to play hide and seek with their words/art a week from today. Kelowna, consider yourself hugged!
Just a few early morning poetry pins around the beautiful streets before the ride to the airport and the take off and airborne goodbyes to the skyline and bay and landmarks now trodden by my tired feet: Alcatraz’s unexpected art and music installations, the poet’s chair at City Lights, Aria‘s surprises on upper Grant, Cafe Au Lait at Cafe Greco in North Beach, and climbing Lombardy Street and the 45 degree slopes up to Coit Tower and maybe parrots squawking, and riding the Big Bus tour and the trolleys and the streetcars, and eating in so many great restaurants, and finding poetry painted on hotel walls and stamped in the pavement and attached to the railings and now hanging there, my little Pop-Up-Poems hanging there like flags fluttering in accepting air. YES!
Oh San Francisco, be still my heart. Find the hearts that need you, Pop-Up-Poetry!
Most of all, thank you to the two dear hearts that joined mine on our lovely San Francisco adventure ❤ I love you both so much!
Last night we gathered at heART School for our Make Love Poems ~ Live Poetry Show. Nygel, Emmy, Lolu and Lesley-Anne (me) served up our words with just a wee bit of passion to all the lovely folk who came. And they’re still talking about it…
“Embracing, love, of all types with wonderful people at heART school, says Sami,
“Saturated in love and poetry last night at the heART School,” says Gillian,
“The music and the majesty, the magic and the mystery,” say Lolu, Emmy, Nygel and me.
And then, at the invitation of our poets, the audience offered up their words of love to be lovingly crafted by Lesley-Anne (me) into a custom, spontaneous, interactive poem! Yes, you bravely creative and brimming over with profundity, folk, you! Proving all you do is make love poems, too! You can see your poetry cards posted up on the board behind us in the photo… and now you can read what you wrote (with a little more editing today) 🙂
Thank you all for a heart warming evening of welcome. Thank you so much.
Now. Presenting YOUR WORDS. Poetized!
Sweet. Digital. Stars.
Love like you had one hour left
on this blue planet. Disconnect to really connect.
Mutual longing for community connection,
our cognitive knowledge that we are connected
by much more than mere familiarity.
Be present, be in the moment.
If I was twenty years younger
and twenty years bolder
I’d invite you to climb my Maple tree. You plague my life
like locusts, and I am the biggest bug lover.
Our palms harmonize the fractal lines
of our highs and lows with impermanent grasp.
If I could digest any part of you
it would be your warm, juicy, full-flesh heart.
Love is encouragement.
Love is laughing until you don’t make a sound.
Love is the smell of freshly baked cookies.
Love is a pirouette on a Sunday
when there’s nothing to do but dance with abandon.
Love is deaf, dumb and blind
and does not discriminate. Equal opportunity
for joy and pain, and I didn’t even realize
as I stretched to love myself
I would break his heart. He watches
the cardinals of her love fly heavenward. He feels
the coldness of his overwhelming empty nest. Perplexing
silent void until red birded ripening days return.
Sweet. Digital. Stars. You and me,
a spec of dust on a seed in wind. You and me
as the world goes by like ants in a line.
Love is not blind.
Love me. You are
my favourite. Sweet
whispers. Take me
to your leader.
note: I forgot to write my own words on an index card last night, so I added mine to our poem today. 🙂
Go. Love. Be.