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Thunderstorm

Some days, writing is like a laser beam: sharp, focused. Other days, it’s like a flood: deep, dense. This day, this morning, I woke with an emotional hangover. Yesterday–my second Mother’s Day without my mother–was heavy with unexpected grief, conflict, and affection. My children saved it, of course, as did the pie they baked for me with my (ever-Friend) ex, as did going through Mom’s shells together, telling stories, as did hugging each other in the aftermath of sugar and sand.

This morning, thankfully, a friend (this one) said to come to our favorite place (this one) to write. So I was saved from wallowing in that emotional hangover, from drowning. And writing happened. And it was like a flood today, ideas and fragments and shards of thought flowing out of my mind onto paper. And who knows where this originated (May we just let its origins lie, please, letting it be without the need to know, letting it be without expectation or even hope, though maybe finding origins in finally choosing life over joining my mother?), but here is one of those shards; a poem.

My Love shall be like Kansas
Jene’ Jackson, May 2014

My Love shall be like Kansas,
an open plain
an infinite space
upon which the sun of me
shall shine,
into which the rain of me
shall soak, tilth bursting new life,
across which the storm of me
shall rage,
shall gather its skirts to build the head of wrath up into the heavens
unleashing fury
wind water fire
oh, the fire
of lightnings past and future and Now
only Now,
bending blade
breaking bough
shattering windows behind which safety lies,
under which all others cower
in dark cellar holes
in the face of the flinging
lashing
furious
joy
of my love.

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6 thoughts on “Out of the Blue, a Poem for You

  1. I grew up in Kansas so this really hit home. Glad to see you make light of a place that means a lot to me. Thank you

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