"Huddle Apart"
The March Dive Into Poetry group is coming to a close. It was quite a month to be together, and the experience inside the group mirrored in some ways what we've all been going through, in that it was on the one hand much quieter than usual, and on the other hand, more vital and connected than ever.
It's like just knowing the other is "there" brings solace, even if the poems seem elusive. Which isn't to say some powerful work didn't emerge. It did, as surely as spring still comes even amidst tragedy. This morning, I wrote a tiny bit (below). And wanted to share these lines here, too, with all of you.
Not everyone will get through this, and to say "we will get through this" without acknowledging that terrible fact feels not only incorrect but irresponsible.
But how we move through these days matters. How we hold each other from afar matters.
This morning, walking back up the driveway after Chupie peed in the front yard, I noticed our neighbor's basement light was on. My memory lit on a tornado warning, was that two years ago now? Pearl was at cohousing and Mani and I were here. Where was V?
What I remember is that we went and huddled together with our neighbors in their basement, waiting it out.
What was outside was frightening. How close was it? Would we be ok? How bad would the damage be? How many would die? And what was inside was comforting -- each other and an effort to remain safe.
"Huddled apart." Those are the words that flitted through my mind as I remembered that day and reflected on this one.
On that day, we huddled together. On this day, we huddle apart.
But we huddle, still.
You who shut down
the body
mind
heart
unable to integrate
the unimaginable
You who froze
invisible state
of shock
grief
raining down
flooding
your nervous system
You whose circuits
went haywire
You who lost
what you thought
would be tomorrow
or next week
You who live
in fear
isolated now
for all to see
rather than in the ways
you already were
You who wished
poems would come
but no poems came
You who read
appreciatively
soaking in each line
the way the crocuses
drink the rain
You who sit here still
wondering
what next
You who battle
old demons
risen from the dead
You who employ
every technique
known to peoplekind
in an attempt
to stay
calm
You are my people
I am your people
We are the people
who will swim
these waters
Don't forget to float
Look up at the stars
Ride these big waves
Reach out your hand
and I'll grab it
Close your eyes
I'm right here