POEMS OF THE WEEK BY RAJANI, MAGALY AND KERRY

We have three poems by three very fine poets for you today, my friends. Rajani, of thotpurge, Magaly, of Magaly Guerrero, and Kerry, the fabulous admin at Real Toads, who blogs at  Skywriting and Skylover, have graciously allowed me to feature their remarkable and beautiful poems. I think they will lift your hearts as much as they did mine. Let's dive in.

Two Moons

Maybe it was the night we saw two moons
in the sky. Was it the sky holding a mirror to

itself, was it the sea surging back to where it
all began, was it the distance between us that

split the horizon in two? I have sun seeds in
my pocket to grow new light, to undraw the

silhouettes on either side of the silence, to dot
infinity with golden possibilities, but tonight

there can be nothing, my hands are cold in yours,
the earth bears this paradox of churning stillness,

the wind that was to fetch the dawn lies at our feet,
what do we do love, when love is not enough?

Sherry: "What do we do, love, when love is not enough?" What a perfect reflection of the times we live in, Rajani.

Rajani: Sherry, thanks so much for picking this poem. It is wonderful to be featured alongside Kerry and Magaly. Like much of what I write, I'm not sure exactly where this poem came from, but at one level it is about unrequited love that cannot overcome the reality of time and place and circumstance, so incongruent that it seems two people look up at the sky together and see two different moons. But in a broader sense, I think it is between a person and their universe, because sometimes you can want something and do all the right things to make it happen, but there are things you cannot control and can do nothing about. Two moons, I think, is the distance between what we are and what we want to be.

Sherry: What a beautiful explanation that is. Thank you, Rajani.

Magaly recently wrote the following poem, which really speaks to our shared humanity. A timely reminder in these days of division.

How Different We Are Not

My pen won’t be sated by blood pumped by the heart of another. The best tales are filled by laughter, wails, pleasure and agonies birthed out of flesh and spirits that lived them. You can’t suffer my hurts for me, I won’t weep your tears for you. But we can carve our feels into each other’s bones, and share with the world until all see how different our hates and loves are not.

I write crimson words
full of dark moons and tamed screams,
you should write your own.
I want you to art with me…
in colors that soothe your soul.

art by Magaly

Sherry: Your words speak truth, Magaly. And your art adds beauty. I love that whole idea: how different we are not! When will humanity understand this?

Magaly: "How Different We Are Not" was inspired by my belief that art brings thinking minds closer together. And in these days of divisiveness and turmoil, we need to stay close, we need to think our fighting hearts out. With this poem, I wanted to show that although our personal interests and preoccupations might be different, at the core, the needs and wants of people who care wear the same worried (hope-filled) faces - we want to be healthy, we want to love and be loved, we want to keep the Earth Mother from dying, we want a world in which everyone feels that they are not alone in wanting to be who they are and expressing that want in their own way.

Sherry: So perfectly stated, Magaly. "Worried and hope-filled faces" is very apt. We are all worried. And we cannot relinquish hope of better days than these. Thank you for this poem of truth. 

Kerry's poem is so incredibly lovely, I caught my breath when I read it.  It offers us a very human moment, that I am sure everyone can relate to.  Let's take a peek.

Made For Silence

My tongue was not made for silence
but my words cannot reach you now.

I leave them unsaid, lying awake
through dark hours of morning

listening to the rain whisper her words
of love to the leaves and grass

knowing how this will make things
grow right, even the little birds

huddle closer together on the bough
and the stars are still there

behind the storm clouds, never too distant
for their light to be lost.

My words cannot heal you, but I am here
never further than the star, a small bird in the rain.

source

Sherry: Your closing lines leave me breathless, Kerry. I can so feel that woman, a small bird in the rain. Sigh.

Kerry:  The idea behind "Made For Silence" came to me at 4 a.m. on a rainy morning, so that part is quite literal. It is the curse of the insomniac to lie awake while most of the world sleeps, so this reinforced the theme of silence.

I am always interested in exploring the idea of communication as an aspect of the human condition, especially in close relationships, the words spoken and also what is left unsaid.

The poem acknowledges that sometimes the best one can do for another person is to be nearby without intruding. I have had to wrestle with a reluctant muse of late, and a lack of inspiration, so perhaps this could be read as a kind of internal monologue, in which I address the silent part of myself. 

Sherry: As I read, I felt the silent observer in myself, as well. Just so beautiful, Kerry. Thank you. And thank you for your enormous contribution to the poetry community, in keeping the Imaginary Garden open all these years. 

We hope these words gifted you with a few moments of peace, comfort and beauty in your busy day, my friends. Do come back and see who we talk to next. Who knows? It might be you!