August 23, 2020
(For Petey)
I watched the clouds all day
That day
The day you died
I sat outside
While
Lucy, just five, scootered in the driveway,
And Mike, he mourned with music
That poured from open windows
I gazed, craned my neck
Upward
Onward
Witnessing the clouds
Seeking…
They shift like grief does
And the other shapes of love
Ebb and flow, transform and reform;
Heavy sometimes, or feather-light
Ominously present, or barely there
But there
Always.
And never
the same.
Who would I be
If I were free
Of the fear that keeps ahold of me?
An artist, a prophet,
A maker of love —
Singing my stories
With the birds up above
Seeing the violence
And hearing the cries
Feeling the suffering
Of life as it tries
Seeking the beauty —
Finding deep faith within
Naming the mystery
Of being human
Tender of heart
And firm of conviction:
We all deserve justice
And the peace that comes with it.
Surrender that fear
(Set her gently aside)
Say: I’ll bring you along
But I can’t let you drive!
We are artists and prophets
And makers of love —
We have stories to tell,
And we need time enough
Revolutions and renaissance
A new world is there
If only we’ll nurture
The courage to care
pruneandpear 