Cherish
Big year, you
split my heart
open
to getting
familiar with
the demons
that have tried
building fate
and blame
outside,
but are actually
between me
and me,
so I can now see
and honor
the sprite
inside
that loves
creates
and holds
joy in the earth’s
deep forest and ocean,
the river’s laugh,
the sky of birds
across clouds,
the eyes
of strangers
in grace,
and the secret
memory
of sacred spaces
in trees.
I bow to
the human
being
paradoxes:
to belonging,
to feeling wholly
loved
and alone
in one
instant;
like how I feel
most romantic
in airplanes
sitting in small,
expensive spaces
where tears
and smiles
flow
in permission
quietly,
where glee
and remorse
both live,
and where I’m given
a sense of sharing
the colors
of solitude
and freedom.
I cherish
the stumbling,
bumbling,
middle school
lessons
that slowed
my seeking
this year
and led me to
the discerning
teacher
within.
I cherish
the journeys
behind closed eyes,
and the wounds
that got me wise.
I cherish
the people
and plays,
the sisters
and brothers
teachers
and lovers
that sat in my
tissues
and bones
like gold,
and the ones
that added
weight
and fire
and lifted
dust
from my belly,
the angry
intelligence
of my body
learning
the places
that are
not
for me,
the shades and
the whens
to let go.
New year,
you hold me
in a bronze
singing bowl
as I wake,
sweet gravel
crunching under
the feet
I once tried
to hide,
helping me
cherish
the singular space
that holds
the thousand sounds
of sorrow and delight,
of grasping
and cherishing
only to
know
to let go,
and vibrating the
whisper to
— finally! the soul roars,
with honesty and
in plain and daily
ceremony —
cherish
myself
for the gem
that I am.
.
.
© 2020 Alma Ortman. All Rights Reserved.
