Mary always wanted me to write her a poem.
I had hit a 12-man defense of writer’s block shortly before we met and was never able to work my way through it. I don’t know why I stopped writing or why I couldn’t start again. Maybe I got too practical, political, earthly. Or maybe the healing I found in poetry was now embodied in this beautiful spirit who was leading me into a fuller and healthier life.
The books of poetry, the journals, and the floppy disks of verse are still around, but I haven’t really shared that old passion with my children. Losing Mary has stripped me right down to all my weaknesses. The worst is when they seem like too much for me to overcome. The best is when I can take a breath and confront one.
As National Poetry Month, April used to be special for me. This April can feel like the cruelest at times, but God has placed poetry in front of me again and I won’t ignore it. My younger son picked up a book seemingly about dragons and it turned out to be about Matsuo Basho. Then I ran into Jonathan Whitney at Delaware Art Museum and he encouraged me to attend a special music and poetry presentation at The Delaware Contemporary. It was a “say yes” moment and helped orient our lives in a healing direction.
The Twin Poets and Mélomanie were amazing and Jonathan was fierce on the box drum.
My boys sat for nearly two hours in the front row and really listened. The younger wanted to buy the Twin’s book of poetry, Our Work, Our Words and I quickly learned that it was specifically for the soccer and E-A-G-L-E-S–infused piece, “no time to study.”
Poetry is back in our lives and the timing is no coincidence. I don’t know if I’ll finally be able to write that poem for Mary, or if one of the boys will take up the task, but I do know that we’re missing a beautiful part of our lives and we’re trying to fill it with tangible and intangible creations of love. I expect a lot of that work to be done in words.
God bless,
Jason