The Poetry Playground

little prayer
let ruin end here

let him find honey
where there was once a slaughter

let him enter the lion’s cage
& find a field of lilacs

let this be the healing
& if not      let it be

~ Danez Smith

Make Me Rain
make me rain
turn me into a snowflake

let me rest
on your tongue

make me a piece of ice
so I can cool you

let me be the cloud
that embraces you

or the quilt
that gets you dry

snuggle close
listen to me sing

on the windowsill

make me rain
on you

~ Nikki Giovanni

Risk

And then the day came,
when the risk
to remain tight
in a bud
was more painful
than the risk
it took
to blossom.

~ Anais Nin

The River Cannot Go Back

It is said that before entering the sea
a river trembles with fear.
She looks back at the path she has traveled,
from the peaks of the mountains,
the long winding road crossing forests and villages.
And in front of her,
she sees an ocean so vast,
that to enter
there seems nothing more than to disappear forever.
But there is no other way.
Nobody can go back.
To go back is impossible in existence.
The river needs to take the risk
of entering the ocean
because only then will fear disappear,
because that’s where the river will know
it’s not about disappearing into the ocean,
but of becoming the ocean.

~ Kahlil Gibran

My Mama moved among the days
My Mama moved among the days
like a dreamwalker in a field;
seemed like what she touched was hers
seemed like what touched her couldn’t hold,
she got us almost through the high grass
then seemed like she turned around and ran
right back in
right back on in

~ Lucille Clifton

To My Friends

Dear friends, and here I say friends
In the broad sense of the word:
Wife, sister, associates, relatives,
Schoolmates of both sexes,
People seen only once
Or frequented all my life;
Provided that between us, for at least a moment,
A line has been stretched,
A well-defined bond.

I speak for you, companions of a crowded
Road, not without its difficulties,
And for you too, who have lost
Soul, courage, the desire to live;
Or no one, or someone, or perhaps only one person, or you
Who are reading me: remember the time
Before the wax hardened,
When everyone was like a seal.
Each of us bears the imprint
Of a friend met along the way;
In each the trace of each
For good or evil
In wisdom or in folly
Everyone stamped by everyone
Now that time crowds in
And the undertakings are finished,
To all of you the humble wish
That autumn will be long and mild.

~ Primo Levi (translated by Ruth Feldman and Brian Swann)

Daylight Savings

Seven-thirty, last weekend in April,
the sun, like a laggard child, still thumbs
the greening branches
to see how new the world’s become.
In this light it’s hard to admit so little
has changed.  Maria, I say, kiss me.
When she does, I give myself up
to the pollen
falling from the light-streaked clouds,
tulips holding their white chalices open
to the air. I remember that first-evening

I was freed after supper,
amazed by the extra light,
the flat planes of houses aflame
with a radiance I’d never notice again.
The moon hung in the sky, a pale promise.
I hid beside the house, the maple
with its new leaves, green stars
gathering the darkness,
my mother on the red brick steps
cupping her mouth and I thought

I have light, I have light
in my pockets. I’ll save it.

~ Steven Bauer