What Do You Make Of It

 

I dreamed my grandmother
was reaching arms of love
out to me not
a gesture I could imagine of her
in life yet this was her and
at the same time I was the
grandmother holding out
my arms to the daughter
or granddaughter I thought
All the I’s within me no one
lost not one iota ever


but in this waking life
if I pay attention to one thing I miss
something else
if I listen and follow what someone
is saying my own thought
disappears I go round and round
the circle seeing what I
notice not noticing a thing
just listening breathing


Here’s Maria beautiful in her
blue sweater her sun-warm
skin comfortable on
her one leg her crutches
She has one lawyer in God
is not afraid to live
will not be maimed
despite amputation is whole
No one can push her over


I think we speak to many
when we speak to one
Facing you I touch back
in time because your eyes
are open wide


Light dances like blots
tattoos on vision
the leaves the baby’s hands
the calls of the mallard
the baby’s grunts and whirs and
questioning peals
alight with expectation
of everything good
Through the pond’s waters
the duck glides sculpting a
V that widens fading
behind her


A gush a birth
at the body’s crossroads
new life
Break apart
then soften with
age fatigue worn
to velvet thinning
frayed soft touch
hollow
still heart of self
beating waiting
to be released
new life breaking

~ Hilary Sallick ~