Arthritis
Truly I am worn about the edges
but maybe you see lace.
My bones ache but I hope you see the graceful
mudras made by my hands,
signs in the air.
The wrinkles are deepening.
The song is strengthening. I cradle myself.
Everything is fine. Everything.
I don’t know how to give up the freedom
I had to go wherever I wanted.
Once when I was a waitress
I was asked if I was a dancer.
Little did they know:
Nights I hit the floor
with the opening bars of flamenco music and the
crowd breaking into applause
or leaping at the wedding, two people
I didn’t know, friends of my friend
and an excuse to fly.
The disco’s vast smoothness
before anyone else showed,
spins and spirals in cut-offs and
t-shirt, going home so I could
reappear in slinky slacks and
silver platforms.
My ego wants to win this battle.
I can’t get stranded,
dependent on my own feet
to steer me home,
the delicious adventure
is postponed forever.
Illusions prevent me from expressing the
Magnificence I know I am, precious
vehicle for spirit’s work.
But I am determined to throttle
them to death.
--Wendy Brown-Baez
(Wendy and I have both had hip surgeries in the past and walk with a limp.)
ArthritisTruly I am worn about the edges
but maybe you see lace.
My bones ache but I hope you see the graceful
mudras made by my hands,
signs in the air.
The wrinkles are deepening.
The song is strengthening. I cradle myself.
Everything is fine. Everything.
I don’t know how to give up the freedom
I had to go wherever I wanted.
Once when I was a waitress
I was asked if I was a dancer.
Little did they know:
Nights I hit the floor
with the opening bars of flamenco music and the
crowd breaking into applause
or leaping at the wedding, two people
I didn’t know, friends of my friend
and an excuse to fly.
The disco’s vast smoothness
before anyone else showed,
spins and spirals in cut-offs and
t-shirt, going home so I could
reappear in slinky slacks and
silver platforms.
My ego wants to win this battle.
I can’t get stranded,
dependent on my own feet
to steer me home,
the delicious adventure
is postponed forever.
Illusions prevent me from expressing the
Magnificence I know I am, precious
vehicle for spirit’s work.
But I am determined to throttle
them to death.
--Wendy Brown-Baez
(Wendy and I have both had hip surgeries in the past and walk with a limp.)
5 comments:
Written from my heart, too. Best wishes and a speedy recovery.
Those first two lines are especially wonderful, and they set the tone for the rest. Thanks for posting this!
Poignant piece...
Pearl
Well I am unfamiliar with this author and yet this is a fresh look for me into a more modern genre of poetry, thanks for this wonderful introduction.
I can relate to the poem that's for sure. :)
Thanks for visiting my nature blog. Occasionally, I wander off into childhood memories. Though I have lived in "Greater Minnesota" all these years, my childhood in growing up on the East Side in St. Paul often comes to the fore. Of course, Minnesota whereever will always be where my heart is.... :)
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