Monday, August 17, 2009

I Remember This - poem under construction

I remember us.
We are strong hands, closed eyes, open hearts.
You are a scarred mind.
Mine over-achieves.
But I remember this.
It works somehow.

Not everyone gets it.
Not everyone was there at the beginning when it was decided.
But that doesn't change it.
Not knowing what is coming won't stop the bomb from dropping.
Not hearing the birds sing won't keep dawn from coming.

I remember fighting for it.
I know that you finally realized.
I don't remember how it ended.
But that's fine.
Life isn't about the destination,
it's about the ride.

Jen sees me under your needle, being branded willingly.
She sees you hurting me.
But she doesn't see know the difference between the girl who let you puncture me and the woman who was brave enough to pierce herself in dedication to our love.
She hasn't seen it yet.
She'll get it.

Just like you will.
I'll show you.
Perhaps God will let you see it in my eyes.
Perhaps making this work is about finding a new way to fight.
Maybe it's bringing the hidden things out into the light for you to see.
this heart inside a book blanketed by words and simile...
this is me.
And I know you don't read, so I'll have to show it to you in pictures.
I'll have to learn to translate.
Some things are so hard to translate.
Some things like strength
and peace
and memory.

Maybe if I drew you a tree,
told you that the seed was planted long before either of us came to be.
Maybe if I discussed the dynamics and intricacy of a universe's growth,
maybe then you would believe.
You see we are supposed to be fruit,
meant to nourish, to produce more seeds, and to look pretty.
Right now we're just little buds without leaves.

An apple must decide to grow,
to trust the tree,
if it ever wants to be picked with the others ripe enough to eat.
Lucky for us, the Gardener took care of the end before the beginning.
I know how this works out because I watched Him plant the seeds.
I saw, through His eyes, the most beautiful fruit tree.
A tree in which kids learn how to be free.
We teach.
We teach them how to speak, with words and imagery.
We teach them how to climb,
higher and higher until they reach the top.

If you can't see it for yourself,
just believe me.
I'd never lie to you.
I remember this.
We succeed.

1 comment:

  1. This makes this think of my fight and believability in the relationship destined for my boyfriend and I.
    But this piece could mean much more.