Wednesday, February 02, 2011

At the center: revisited

I'm reposting this poem from several years ago....

At the Center

Today the sky is Italian blue.
The blue of sapphires and Mediterranean seas,
the kind of blue that seems almost too good to be true.
The kind that makes clouds pristinely white,
the kind that causes you to gaze in wonder at the place you find yourself.

Breezes blow and grape vines shift,
their giant leaves casting shadows,
framed by that Italian blue.
And in their wandering waving
I find my own wavering,
no matter how blue a sky.

The hill steeply climbs
graded into plots, gardened into life.
In late afternoon it sits in shade,
this part of the yard catches morning sun.
The sky above it, though, is still Italian blue.
And as I sit watching vegetables and children grow,
I see my reflection in a yellow building’s window.
I am older than I remember,
more tired; weary with wrestling.

When I was young
I knew how to pray.
And in my prayers life was framed in Italian blue,
because I believed,
and so it would be.
And that blue made clouds white,
caused earth to catch morning sun,
and afternoon shade.

Today the sky is Italian blue,
and I beneath it can only groan
and ache, uncertain of words and
undiminishing desires, lost in a maze of yellow buildings,
reaching for a cloud, smiling at a child;
knowing her ache, though young, is old for one so young.
Still, I smile and I reach, now a little afraid of a sky so blue, too blue.
I gaze in wonder
I groan
I wrestle
I waver
I believe.


-t- said...

oh to believe, what a wonderful thing!

When he had gone indoors, the blind men came to him, and he asked them, “Do you believe that I am able to do this?” “Yes, Lord,” they replied. ~Mathhew 9

Abby said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Abby said...

this was really is this time of a few years ago still how you see? has the sky ripened, somehow passed from italian blue...a truer color for the journey?

i cherish the poems of a few years ago...the ones i still have...i can't put my fingers on others for the wandering nomadic journey...

thank you again. i loved this!

emily wierenga said...

I find my own wavering,
no matter how blue a sky.

april, this is exquisite writing. LOVE the "italian blue"... i've been to italy, so i could picture it immediately... and this journey, this wavering, warbling journey, this is what makes faith so sacred, no? thank you for this gift of prose, friend.

Kati patrianoceu said...

This is lovely... my favourite part is the watching vegetables and children grow. May we all be inspired to take time to just enjoy life like you do, to ponder and watch.

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