Five Poems by Lorie Greenspan

 

i am

 

i don't know why

the wind fells the tree

why lightning splits the trunk

why nature’s golden hammer

makes any death merciful . . .

 

if veins did not split

would life travel

the same arms?

if knives did not cut

would spoons serve the purpose?

if i were blind would

my soul carry vision?

if my voice wasn't heard

could my screams devour me . . .

would words never spoken

remain stacked in my head,

could thoughts from the mind

come through outstretched hands?

if my yell felled the branch

could my inhale take it back?

 

if i didn't have to push

for my peace could

boulders still move?

if another’s ears listened

would i not fear?

if silence deafened

would the noise

drown the misery?

if people were flowers

could they return in spring?

if rainbows fell to earth

would i be coloured?

 

if all the universe held the key

would the door be a different shape? made of different

fabric, bendable or hard?

wielding a different

hammer could

nature build towers?

i don't know the answers

but searching has led

me to the boundaries

of my existence . . .

i am a grain of molecule

dwelling in an ocean, alert,

my senses strike, a sponge,

absorbing all blood.

 

 

My turtle

 

I think the turtle loves me

Every time

I walk this bridge,

The turtle breaks water,

Paddling its little legs

Neck stretched to greet me,

Alas, our love can never be –

He cannot escape his shell

like I.

 

 

The curves of grace 

 

curled up

a twirly beech

i wonder what

life would have been

 

had i grown

into an oak,

if the weaves

of experience

had been kinder,

 

the growth of the trunk

not as gnarly . . .yet

there is beauty

in these twists, for

 

I am a ballerina

not a stanchion –

my changes enabled

growth different from others

 

instead of straight to the sky

curved to the

glorious ground . . .

I have lived among the boring

 

oaks grown straight and sure

passing me in their singleness

ignoring my twisting branches, they see

a mess of hard living,

 

of choices never fine, but my

secret remains here, the breath

among the curves of grace –

I am everyone who has

 

braved the chance of

different roads, the wave,

the revelation, what bends

creates the solitary,

 

life original, so I say to oaks

grow straight and tall if you

must, for there is no room

for you among us dancers

here on earth.

 

 

first, on a road of whales 

 

i thought it uncommon that a whale blocked my path

why, sir, do you lounge here out of your ocean? i am

first on a road of whales, it said, and you must climb me to continue . . .

 

i dwelled on its words,

not understanding why it gave me this trial, perhaps

it was the back of the humpbacked hill

that triggered my courage, this obstacle

so alive it rolled continuously ahead of me,

challenging me to confront the life I wanted,

as real as any phantom of the sea, and so

I climbed . . .

 

behind me, the whales passed,

ahead of me, they lived,

 

all gentle songs encouraging

in front, always first, alive.

 

 

Playful

 

A small cloud drifts past the afternoon’s partial  

moon, a white mint served on a blue plate, the cloud 

is an eye winking, the cloud is a strand of  

hair waving, it is a splat of milk in a blue bowl of water  

a feather dusted from a breeze in a lake,  

milk purring on a kitten’s tongue relished for that one moment

when there is no other feeling in the world as nurturing, my soul

the tattered feather, playful in the kitten’s mouth

 

 

Lorie Greenspan is publishing director at a Deerfield Beach, Florida, book publishing company. Her poems originally were inspired by the death in 2020 of her husband of twenty years, but have broadened to encompass the quirky thoughts that spring to mind from life’s transitions and occurrences. She has been published on the online poetry sites MONO, Your Fire, and GAS. Four of her poems have been composed into songs.