Freindship | pictured words

OPEN MINDED

I am of the age
where knocks at the door did not
need to be scheduled.

This was a time when
hospitality welcomed
spontaneity.

A time when one was
made to feel valuable –
greeted with a smile

and a hand gesture
first ushering you in, then
offering a seat.

I wish I could say
that is a custom I still
embrace. But it’s not.

Feeling unprepared
makes me uneasy, and it
seeps right through my smile.

I hope to become
genuinely embracing
of a friendly knock –

to swing wide the door –
no thought of untidiness;
no eye on the time.

It was said that Rabbit is made
of important things.
Piglet said, “Rabbit has brain,”
and, “Yes, Rabbit is clever.”
And that may be.
Yes, that may be.
But our smidgen-y Piglet is made
of weighty things –
nearly all of him being empathy
and oh-such-friendness
and how-can-I-helpness.
As Eeyore said
on that blustery day,
“Mind you don’t get blown away,
little Piglet. You’d be missed.”
And when you are missed,
you are weighty, indeed.

Christopher Robin’s friends
show us how to be ourselves
among others.
Being ourselves among others is
an important thing.

A weighty thing.

A Piglet-and-Pooh-and-Rabbit-and-Roo,
and Kanga-and-Eeyore-and-Tigger-and-Owl,
and love-me-for-me-and-I’ll-love-you-for-you,
significant, super-salubrious thing.

And so, little girl with your Piglet in tow,
be yourself as you grow,
and let others be so.
And when you’ve outgrown
your sweet childhood ways,
please hold Piglet at heart
for the rest of your days.

7 Comments

July 29, 2019

PARTNER IN RHYME

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It is no small thing
to call yourself a poet.
Thanks to you, I do.

2 Comments

May 4, 2019

SHE CALLS HERSELF AN ADDICT

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I suppose when cravings for poison
introduced in past moments of pain
threaten to pull you to ocean’s floor
and you remember the relief of
oxygen to your lungs,
you might find it irresistible, this temptation to
breathe –

even if it is one breath.
Even if it threatens
to fill your lungs with death.

But she –
she would rather not breathe

than return to the venom her body craves.
She would rather hold her breath,
while waiting for her Redeemer
to meet her in the depths.
To lift her face.
To breathe life to her very soul.

She calls herself an addict.

I call her a child of the God who Saves.
I call her brave.
I call her inspiring.

I call her friend.

6 Comments

May 18, 2016

UNTITLED RYŪKA FORM

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After school, two five-year-old boys
Hug and cry in the parking lot
As one is moving far away
And how would it be possible
To span that large of a distance
When you are two five-year-old boys
Whose parents are not acquainted
And all there is left to do is
Hold each other and cry

Photo credit: Pixabay.com

2 Comments

pictured words

Tag: Freindship

January 3, 2022