Something Made of "Here"

Turning the page to May, plus a repurposed poem

Neighborhood blooms in Boston

Dear Friends,

As we move through the last night of April, and ease into the first morning of May, I want to thank you for sharing this space with me, during this National Poetry Month, yes, and every day. With all the different places and spaces that your attention could stray, it means more than I can say that you are here, reading my thoughts and poems, witnessing me working out big feelings on the page, and connecting with one another in the comments and notes. “Thank you” doesn’t begin to cover it. I am so grateful for each one of you.

As a way of bidding farewell to April and to looking forward to a new month, I wanted to share this poem that I wrote for my Wild Unfolding collection that was published in March 2020. Rereading this poem that I wrote about the tensions between and balance of following in the footsteps of loved ones who have gone before you and at the same time, forging a new-unique-to-you path, it occurred to me that I needed this reminder at this moment of my life and of the years. Spring’s arrival means feeling a new sense of life after a long, frigid winter. It also means engaging with a sense of returning to the cycle of seasons. New and old. Back and forth. Embarking and returning, all at once.

I am wishing you rootedness amidst all the green that has come to surround us this month. My hope is that you feel life persisting all around us in the form of flame-tipped tulips, perfumed lilacs, and gentle lily-of-the-valley. May you feel yourself -gorgeous and wrought anew this season - persisting, too.

Grateful to be sharing space with you again next week. Until then, take good care of your sweet selves, and each other.