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This is the first poem I have published paired with art in collaboration with another artist. Dominique Jahn writes Sounds of a Gong…and with this tagline (Occasionally diplomatic zirconium in the rough delivering perceptions like pizzas) and this art, I vote More Please! You can check out Sounds of a Gong here.
Promises
So long the wait. You do not have the faintest memory of what vibrant is, your mind obscured and murky gray, midnight blacks are your noon and brown is the field you walk through, bare feet through deep cold and not sinking only because you continue. There is no easier path that leads from this trudge point. Your choice was to come this way, but this way was not supposed to be this way. A promise was promised to you. An expansive ever blue, a clear horizon to move towards, a soft field of wildflowers, bird song and beauty. You chose this way of ease and circumstance, not the fearsome forest climb with a horizon shrouded by switchbacks, boulders and difficulty. The truth beneath your gaze, circumstance swept away by circumstance swept away by circumstance. This is what the promiser refused, this hot coal that slipped through their fingers, you cradle in the middle of your overlayed palms. It burns you something terrible, tears come to your eyes, eyes that gaze deep into the shimmering glow, tears that pour and turn to steam, eyes closed that peer inward and see life-giving warmth permeating from your hands throughout your being, your hands, your chest, your feet, and your blown open mind. With eyes open you watch that fierce ember burn orange to red to black and place it softly in the field by the first fire-yellow crocus of spring.
Thank you for reading! Please leave a comment about what strikes you, speaks to you, or stirs in you while you read the poem or reflect on the art. I look forward to whatever dialogue happens here, and within a week I will be following up with a Reflection post on how this poem emerged into being.
Brian
Promises is the poem that was referenced in The Hunt. You can revisit that poem here.
Hi Brian and Dominique. With your poem of late, 'The Hunt' as well as this guest poem, 'Promises', you have so been on my page. We are walking out an injury, (my spouse), and the pain and slow recovery from that. It feels like that ruinous field. Nature's spring has been turning her back even though I've sought her comfort. The garden is too hard, too cold and I've been so looking for escape from this painful place. Both of you describe the intensity of this place so accurately. I know this restoration is coming and there is little I can do to hasten it. My clawing risks the deeper healing needed, attempting to circumvent this season. Thank you Brian and Dominique for your insights and intimate words of this place.
Wow! Wonderful prose with a gorgeous visual. Thank you!