By: Claudia Ricci, Ph.D.
Awakening
Oh these days in May how
endless and fleeting are they,
the present moment
of virus time married as it is
to the spring awakening,
such a precious season to
revel in the now: yellow and
red fleshed
flowers and the pink trees
falling like gauzy ballet skirts,
tiny purple violets in the lawn
and sky blue forget me nots
and clusters of white buds on pear trees,
and bleeding heart
and grass so green
the color sinks right through your eyes
so that you’ve seen it in your soul.
OH we still don’t know
when OH WHEN OH WHEN
will we have back the
world the life the loved ones
who have sunk into videos
as they shelter away.
Here and there, and feeling scared
we tiptoe outside and meet loved
ones at safe distances.
Meanwhile, all around
is the message:
be mindful,
and so I am,
especially in meditation
and yoga,
I bend in triangle pose
And breathe deep
And I keep staring outside
the window and soon
comes joy in the
form of the hummingbirds
the birds’ wings a buzz
they hardly land in the blur
of sipping the sweet nectar
on the run and sporting that
ruby throat.
Ah and on the lawn is a plainer
house finch, gathered pink
at the crown and nibbling
and pecking the grass seed we had
thrown.
And yesterday, during meditation
The splendor of a bird the color
of a ripe blueberry dancing
across the meadow and
sweeping up into a pine tree.
The world has slowed
even as it is
so trembling and alive.
What might be commonplace
Those limestone boulders
Outside the window
becomes fascinating now
that we are belted into
our houses.
The irony of this mindful
time is this tricky business
of not thinking:
so frequently the paying
keener attention takes you very
squarely out of your mind
and into your mouth
the inside of the cheeks
the tongue
all over the body, bare yourself
feel the air there
stand naked in the dark
staring at the stars!
Cool? warm? let it all swarm
everywhere over your tender
skin. And even
when your hot steaming
shower splashing your shoulders
is finished keep staying in your limbs
feel blood running in your fingers and toes
and most of all BE ALIVE
pulsing in the right now,
see how slow you can
GO
BE AWARE
look closely at what is in your vision
BE AWARE
Bio: Claudia Ricci, Ph.D.
Claudia Ricci, Ph.D., was a staff writer for The Wall Street Journal and a prize-winning reporter for the Chicago Sun-Times, where one of her projects was nominated for a Pulitzer Prize.
Her novels include:
- Dreaming Maples, published in 2002, and nominated for a Pushcart Prize
- Seeing Red, January 2011
- Sister Mysteries, July 2018
Her short fiction has appeared in numerous literary magazines nationwide.
Ricci spent 15 years teaching English and journalism at the University at Albany and was a visiting professor for one year at Georgetown University.
To order her novels, visit her website at www.claudiajricci.com
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I love this!
Beautiful poem! Very impressive the using of the direct opposition of adjectives, as “endless” and “”fleeting”; the similes of the falling flowers and with gauzy ballet skirts; the wiseness of still enjoying of birds and nature in the tragic time of Coronavirus. Thank you very much!
Larisa Rimerman