April is National Poetry Month and my magnificent friend Amy is encouraging us to take 5 minutes every Friday over breakfast and just jot down a poem. Please feel free to join us! Last week’s poem is here.
There is a little girl
who is huddled in a room
and she is crying
but know one knows it.
She can’t name why
and even if you asked, she wouldn’t tell
because good girls know
you don’t speak of such things.
There is a woman who was once a little girl
who can’t look you in the eye and still
stay to connected to her own heart.
Either the eyes dart away and the feeling stays
or the feelings drop and shatter but the eyes still
hold your own.
But even when she holds your gaze
she goes somewhere else.
You are not invited there-
and she’s sorry
Losing too is still ours; and even forgetting
still has a shape in the kingdom of transformation.
When something’s let go of, it circles; and though we are
rarely the center
of the circle, it draws around us its unbroken, marvelous
-Rainer Maria Rilke