His Journey Was In Me

A Poem By Sarah Bethany // 3/15/2015

I had meant to be so many things:
present, knowing, incarnate,
grateful, incubated, joyous;
instead I thought about
the fur that was slipping
too far down
and about where I was when
he looked out to the sea of faces
as it kept trying to reach me
and I kept trying to reach it.

What they heard in one hour
I heard from sunrise to dinner:
torn apart
to skeletal fragments,
no longer musical.
They could worship his fingers
like hermit crab claws
and I could kiss each knuckle
in the dark;
but still
I held no distance in my heart
between the piano and the pews:
no space for the music to breath -
only one thousand heard-again notes
and hundreds of words
wrapped in his ambition
his despair
his tenderness.

And when the last chord sounded
I sat wounded in the thunder
wondering what to do
with all that was in me.
There was too much
to hold: not only the gold
but the ore:
from his slow autumn to winter,
his vase of clay.

My reward is in this,

though perhaps also in the resting of my head
against the tremorring legs,
my hand on the black thigh
round belly
and when he plays to an audience
of one
I am burst backwards like the rippling
tailfeathers of a sea-faring bird
clearing the ground of uncertainty.

Comments

Those first two lines are

Those first two lines are beautiful, aren't they? I've done the same--been inspired by a poem before and gone off and written one because of it. :)

Your word choice is always exquisite. In this case, I felt a kind of darkness to the whole thing--it was almost unsettling in certain areas, though at the same time, very soothing.

Okay, I was going to say it was hard to figure out what it was about, but I read it a third time and--again--everything suddenly clicked, as it tends to do with your pieces. And those are such wonderful moments, really. Now that I get it, it's absolutely lovely. You do such an excellent job likening one thing to something that most would never think of--something entirely separate--but somehow tying them together so that the imagery is so vivid it's almost unreal. Gorgeous, gorgeous work, and something that I can especially relate to.

Madeline | Tue, 03/17/2015

everything was better when/you would call and I'd be like/yeah babe, no way

This is beautiful. You took

This is beautiful. You took me on a journey with this poem and I didn't want it to end. Your phrasing was incredibly articulate, as always.

Erin | Tue, 03/17/2015

"You were not meant to fit into a shallow box built by someone else." -J. Raymond

:)

Beautiful words :)

Maddi | Tue, 03/24/2015

Goodbye? Oh no, please. Can’t we just go back to page one and start all over again?” – Winnie The Pooh

I'm tempted to say the first

I'm tempted to say the first two lines are my favorite, but in all honesty, they're not. The whole poem is great.

Anna | Wed, 03/25/2015

I have hated the words and I have loved them, and I hope I have made them right. --The Book Thief

Thank you, everyone!

Homey, I'm so glad you picked up on the mixed feelings - unsettled and soothing - because that's exactly what I was going for. I also love that you said it all clicked after a third read, and for the compliment of piecing together otherwise random things... Thank you!!

Thank you, Maddi! Thank you, Erin - what a breathtaking thing to say, that I took you on a journey. :)

Anna - I think you should have said the first two lines were your favorite, hahaha. It would have made me laugh ;) Thanks for being gracious about my stealing.

Sarah Bethany | Thu, 03/26/2015

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