Accepting that blur

so knowing,
what is known?
that we carry our baggage
in our cupped hands
when we burst through
the waters of our mother.
that some are born
and some are brought
to the glory of this world.
that it is more difficult
than faith
to serve only one calling
one commitment
one devotion
in one life.
-Lucille Clifton, “Far Memory”

Image: Giovanni Boccaccio
Title: Ruth Stone

Each poem is a resurrection

 Each poem is a resurrection, but one that engages us with a vulnerable body that may yet again slip into oblivion.

-Jacques Derrida

Photo: Carolin Gutt, Shock

What are those things?**

— What are those things
that shine in the sky,
— I asked my mother.

— Bees, she answered

Every night since then,
my eyes eat honey.

-Humberto Ak abal

**NOTE: April is National Poetry Month. Do yourself a favor and read a poem today. 


Image: Hollie Chastain, Fresh Courage