Dancing till Dawn

April 19th, 2011

You speak in whispers one day, and scream the next.
Why be so erratic?
Until I realize, ahhhh yes –
I hadn’t learnt that lesson.
So go on talk loudly in my ear,
yell if you must.
I’m a slow learner of things like
letting go and trust.

Mostly I just don’t know anything,
other than you,
changing me.
For there you are, so confident and bold.
giving and taking,
changing and shifting like you own this place.

And you know,
I do curse you on those taking days,
leaving me cold and unbelieving.
Telling me to just go rest a while,
while you take control of more important things,
like turning down lights and
tucking  seeds into bed.
Ofcourse I fight you, you know I do.
Until my grip loosens
and I simply give in
to your bossy nature once again.

You eventually shake me
with a childish mischief.
Wake up, watch this!
And there you are,
pushing buds out of dead sticks.
and bringing birds back to visit.
You grab the day with both hands
stretching it a little farther
beyond yesterday’s light.
Look at me, you boast,
and yes, I do.
How can I not?

I watch, I listen
and believe once again,
that there is no such thing as forever.
For whatever is now
will change tomorrow.
You see,
I thought for a moment
I had it all figured out,
when really all I had
was just a handful of perhapses
struggling to escape my determined clutches.
You with your hands dirty
from springtime planting
come along and throw snow balls when
I have made quite different plans.

Don’t take it all so seriously you smile,
poking me with those green shoots of promise.
It’ll all be ok you say, waving hope in front of my face
while flinging trust across a blue inked sky.
I ask you to forgive me
in a mumbled voice,
for forgetting what I already knew.
You tell me it’s really ok
and to stand up straight and speak clearly
of what I’ve learned this day.
Then grabbing my hand you pull me along.
Dance you say, for this is it
-this is what I made it for!
So I do.

I dance with you through the cold nights
and the melting snow.
I dance through the curtains of dawn
to the rhythm of this day.
I dance until I collapse right on top of you
puffing, panting and out of breath.
And with my ear pressed hard to the earth
I hear your heart pound,
knowing right then in that moment
we are indeed both one.

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  1. Margaret says:

    Quite amazing writing Meg. So much thought and feeling there. Well written

  2. Jen Prescott says:

    Wow Meg, that was beautiful! You are such a talented writer! It’s all so true….

  3. Lisa says:

    I will be writing about this beautiful poem on my blog this week….I already posted it to facebook.  Thank you for the reminder of natures healing gift.

  4. Cindy says:

    Wonderful. So well written and thought provoking.

  5. meg says:

    thank you 🙂 Mother earth has so much to teach, I feel like a toddler wobbling about tripping over her lessons.

  6. Meg, Not being ‘handy’ at discerning poetic truths, I first tho’t you were writing about/to your husband. People do ‘push’ people, especially those in close relationships.  We learn each other’s buttons mostly for the purpose of carefully avoiding them. I’m still learning Mother Earth’s buttons. Especially those with ‘mystery’ and ‘miracle’ all over them. Come to think  of it, one of them is me…and another is the one in which I ‘live and move and have my being.

  7. Hi Meg — What a wonderful piece! I love the metaphor for you connection with Nature, and appreciate your openness to wonder.

  8. InnerUs says:

    Beautiful! Great talent for writing!  

  9. Sven Seifert says:

    Thank you Meg for all such nice writing. Where you take your Inspitation to write such many nice ? I like it very much althrough english isn’t my first language. 😉 🙂

  10. Debbie Lass says:

    Thank you, Meg, for this BEAUTIFUL piece of poetry.  I love that you had me in a “guessing game” of meaning…then unfolding the reality.  I will treasure this piece always.  Just putting my hands and shovel into the soil yesterday gave me a sense of connectedness, and yes, there is always surprise and wonder.

  11. Andrea More says:

    Where does this all come from?thank you.

  12. Diane says:

    Lovely. Reads like performance art. Is it? Seems it should be heard. Hope you will record it sometime.  Thanks, peace,Diane

  13. Anonymous says:

    thank you all so much for your encouraging words. No Diane, this is not a performance piece but I love that you can “see” it though my writing. The highest compliment 🙂

  14. Wow! I  am so glad that I saw your tweet about corresponding with your old teacher, because it brought me here today, to your gorgeous poem.

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