A Springtime Poem aka A Prayer for Renewal

Everything is Glad of Me


The quails I disrupt
on their morning walk
scatter in flight,
their wings purring around me.

The ice floe of clouds
slowly shifts
to allow
a glimpse of the sea.

The 100 bees
I hear
buzzing in the tree
land, but do not sting.

The daffodils turn
their bonnet heads
to watch me
as I write.

The wind,
so strong a few days ago,
now sweetly blows
the hair from my eyes.

My shadow lengthens
as I grow
tall enough to touch
the rising moon.

The red bench
stays warm,
welcomes me with
my lover's arms.




~jessica johnson 2013

Mother's Day

I remembered this poem on Mother's Day.

The thought of it has lingered for days now. This morning I opened my laptop before work to dig it out. I changed a couple of small things in it, made a few small adjustments.

Let me know what you think.

I think about my mom so often, probably more than I did when she was alive and healthy to be honest. I am not sure what that says about me, her, or our relationship. I'm not sure it matters.

In any event, here is this - one slice of the pie that was our relationship.



Motherhood

After I pushed my marriage over the cliff
I came to your house
looking for comfort and support

it was dinnertime.

Dad was pissed that you
turned off the TV to
sit with me
on the couch your arms

around me like a mother.

In an effort to stay connected
we met for brunch
French restaurant

cherries on the tablecloth.

As we each looked out the window
you told me secrets I had suspected
things we knew made us

more alike than we wanted to admit.

Another time, dinner
Chinese
a small dish of green beans
on the table between us
we ate them

with our fingers.

Over Kung Pao I asked you serious questions
What about motherhood?
You started so young, was it worth it?
You said: it will change your life.

What kind of daughters had you wanted?
You wanted to raise independent women, you said.
Smart women who could take care of themselves
we agreed you were successful

if that was your goal.