How the Sun

How did I make it
through a five night
hospital stay, through
burst and fever,
a night-watch brigade
circle of steaming
doubt. How did I sail
one full moon to the next,
one full sink of dirty
dishes to the next. How
did I plant the seeds
on time and water the annuals
so leaves wouldn’t fail
their spring. How did the same
sun that ripens sweet peas,
tulips, and zucchinis,
melts M&Ms onto the car seat
and bakes my front porch,
place one bright kiss
on my cheek, as if in sentience
knew need. How is it
then I could not stop
crying. One morning
in April when all was
better than good enough.

Granted, this is more like a journal entry than a poem, but I’ve included it in April’s collection of attempts at poetry because there is some core here I may want to revise later. Thank you for reading.

About these ads

About janehewey

http://janehewey.wordpress.com/ View all posts by janehewey

16 responses to “How the Sun

  • brian miller

    mmm…that last bit changed the mood a bit…i was going to say we shouldnt question our blessings….smiles…then again, obviously something put a shadow on the day….or were they tears of joy?

  • ManicDdaily

    I realize I’ve been commenting on the phone and not focusing on the like button so I may not have “liked” your recent poems though loved all of them, this one especially. This resonates so strongly with me– how to some degree the anxiety can’t vent till the burst is through and how very sensitive difficulty makes us to these types of benedictions. This is a beautiful poem. I can feel the sun-baked porch and that caring sun at your cheek. It is really lovely. K.

    Ps you may feel that your quicker poems are less packed but they do pack an emotional wallop, for sure. Great. K.

  • Polly

    I especially like the lines, ‘How did I sail / one full moon to the next, / one full sink of dirty / dishes to the next…’ it says so much so economically.

  • hedgewitch

    I feel a lot of poetry happening in this, jane–and its structure is a lot more organically whole than most journal entries–even has a powerful and moving moment of resolution at the end, as decent poems should, so I think your decision to post is a very valid one–it’s good writing. I think this one, as most of yours do, lives in the fine detail, and takes the reader into its various chambers confidently. I have had more ups and downs with this april’s journey than my others, but in the end, the listening and transcribing always seems to pay off.

  • claudia

    how the things that bless us in one way can harm or threaten us as well… and sometimes we just wonder how we made it through a challenging time… that’s how i read it… a moving piece..

  • Mark Kerstetter

    I find this very satisfying. The crying towards the end came as such a surprise that I felt something of that burst, and then the release. I’m glad you decided to share this.

  • Victoria C. Slotto

    Great build up then release of emotional energy. Using the interrogation worked so well.

  • Anna Mark

    This poem is an outpouring, like rain. I really enjoyed the simplicity of the language and the gentle flow of sorrow mixed with the kiss of sunlight and hope. I also enjoy how it is all one question without a question mark. I have those kinds of questions, too, it is as though the answer and the question are one and the same, hence the absence of the “?” mark. I’m so glad you published it!

  • Brendan

    A fine meditation on constancy and change — the daily repeating sun like a metronome of light and darkness while our rhythms and thoughts constantly change–but that I suppose is our job, as is the poet’s to observe that. And owing to our changeful nature, the sun can be surprising–or maybe we don’t understand how changing light can affect us. The surprise is a wonderful lysis for the poem. I’ve been slow to read and it looks like I’m not going to be able to read your red moon poem now, I have been saving it for a time to really savor.

  • ManicDdaily

    How much we expect of ourselves! Thanks for all your kindness, Jane. k.

  • Grandmother (Mary)

    I love how nature cared for you just as you needed. And that you shared this moment of grace with us.

  • Lori Lipsky

    Lovely and satisfying, Jane.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

elyn jacobs

A site to empower women to beat cancer

grapeling

it could be that

PRISM international

Contemporary writing from Canada and around the world

Banjo

Poets love to cry

Zurandrya

aflutter with poise

Oran's Well

Voyages down under

The Hip Grandmother

There's a hip grandparent in all of us!

The Boynton Blog

community creativity from Whatcom County, Washington...and beyond

The Mockingbird Sings

poems and prose by Mark Kerstetter

mindlovemisery

"We're all out there, somewhere, waiting to happen."

The Furious Gazelle

Literary as hell.

Sunflower Poetry

Just another WordPress.com site

THE BARDO GROUP

an international collective fostering peace, proximity and healing through our love of the arts and humanities

Racing Through My Life

My Race Reports

Gotta Find a Home:

Conversations with Street People

body divine yoga

unlock your kundalini power, ignite your third eye, awaken your inner oracle

Grist

Environmental News, Commentary, Advice

turtle memoirs

say you had to give up the story of your life so far - would you do it?

Joyous Woman! with Sukhvinder Sircar

Leadership of the Divine Feminine

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 171 other followers

%d bloggers like this: