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after Barbara Crooker, Happiness
I love this ordinary August afternoon, heavy
breath of sub-tropical heat clinging to me like hot
words of a lover, the beach empty of people, the sea,
its luminous stillness. I love the way light spills from
the sky and weaves between waves a shining cloth
of white linen, and the sky itself, shapeless, abstract,
big Frankenthaler brush strokes that one could get lost
in. And the blue heron standing in a shell of silence,
I love the way he partakes of sun's effusive outpouring
in the great conch of the sea, waiting, listening without
restlessness or change.
On this late summer day, I love the transparent wings
of dragonflies, who throw their blue green nets and fish
" noseeums" from my glistening skin. And wind-up
sanderlings that run a race with shirred tides, careen
from water's puckered stitch as sea meets sand. I love
the screech of gulls, their shrill cries that underscore
the quiet. The sea's voice. I love that sound of abundance
that bubbles and laughs like the effervescence in a glass
of Moet Chandon. But most of all, I love this solitude
the inclusion of myself in everything that matters.
From Joy in the Morning (Bellowing Ark Press, 2008)
Used with the author's permission.
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Mary Jo Balistreri was a concert pianist for most of her life, but in 2005 she began writing poetry after the death of her seven-year-old grandson. Poetry gradually helped her transform her grief into something resembling acceptance. Mary Jo’s award-winning work is widely published and she is the author of four collections: Still, gathering the harvest, Best Brothers, and Joy in the Morning. In 2014, Mary Jo began writing haiku and haibun and, since then, has turned almost entirely to Japanese forms. Mary Jo lives in Wisconsin; learn more about her at http://maryjobalistreripoet.com/.
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mf1@quarles.com:
What a great last line, echoing the peace that concludes the first stanza and giving that first stanza the only thing it still needed to be truly complete: the unity of the narrating subject with the natural world that has been so lovingly described. After that, there truly is nothing left to say, is there? Thank you for sharing!
Posted 08/16/2010 07:19 PM
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Patt Clark:
Robert Frost said, "A poem begins in delight and ends in wisdom." Mary Jo's poem "Awakening" fits this criteria. As I read the poem, I relished its natural images, visualized "sanderlings trying to run a race with shirred tides," and then researched the Frankenthaler brush stroke. One needs to be alone on the beach to realize its splendor; that splendor helps the individual to realize his own exquisteness. Patt Clark
Posted 08/15/2010 03:29 PM
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abby:
Grandma, I really LOVE your poem. I have missed going to the beach this year with you but your poem makes me feel like I am there sharing the end of the day with you. Remember when Sam was so excited because he figured out how we could get to the beach when he could not travel anymore? He said, "We can just imagine ourselves there and we will be there." Your poem makes it easy to imagine being there with you.
Posted 08/14/2010 10:34 PM
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F. Carl:
F. Carl
Mary Jo Balistreri integrates the everyday experiences of sight, sound,taste,touch and smell in unique ways that are both subtle and forceful expressions of life.
Posted 08/14/2010 09:35 PM
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kathryn:
Your poem feels so alive and real. Your words so beautifully capture a place and time that I have always loved. I don't have to try hard at all to "be there" as i read your poem. I can smell the ocean, feel the heat, hear the stillness interupted by the gulls' screeches, taste the salt of the air and behold all you have described. Your poem, so powerful, allows one to experience "all that matters." Thank you for sharing it with us.
Posted 08/14/2010 09:24 PM
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dotief@comcast.net:
What a great poem! Jayne, you are right about the solidness of the imagery--tasting the salt almost. And the last line, "the inclusion of myself in everything that matters." Just about knocked me over. Very powerful.
Posted 08/14/2010 08:17 AM
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