National Poetry Month begins today, so for the last 8 days I *may* try to write poems of some kind. Ada Limon is the current poet laureate and happens to spend part of her time in Lexington, KY and part of her time in Sonoma, CA – two areas which I carry in my heart. The poster for national poetry month includes a phrase from her poem, “The Carrying,” “. . .we were all meant for something.”
We Were All Meant for Something
Made for such a time as this
The forest glowing with springtime -
Explosions of color:
Fireworks – without fire,
Without work (!)
Flaming from the mysteries
Buried in earth.
The tiny petals of Redbud,
Slippers for a pixie metropolis,
Blazing on limbs grown long,
Bolder with each day
Declaring the arrival of the season,
Until its many hearts
Unfold on its sleeves
Riley takes a longer stroll
Visiting “the girls.”
Leaving “presents.”
Marking what he clearly believes
Is “his” yard (lest the girls forget).
Then running home, size differential
Turning “play” into discomfort.
“We were all meant for something”
She says – made for such a time as this.
A time of rebirth?
A time of transformation?
A time of interaction, dominance, play, discomfort?
Meant to burn brightly and herald
Our own seasons and courses?
What defines the meaning?
What parcels out the time?
The slow turning of universal bodies
Wound by forces unfathomable
The weightiness
pulling us all toward the center
giving us our own weight, our own meaning?
I look out into the sky
Darkness throwing back the curtains
And hope she is right ,
And believe she is right,
The dog curled and resting
As the bats circle and dive
Consuming the pixies of the night.
