Category Archives: Poetry

A VALENTINE FROM RUMI….

 

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“I want to see you.

Know your voice.

Recognize you when you
first come ’round the corner.

Sense your scent when I come
into a room you’ve just left.

Know the lift of your heel,
the glide of your foot.

Become familiar with the way
you purse your lips
then let them part,
just the slightest bit,
when I lean in to your space
and kiss you.

I want to know the joy
of how you whisper
“more”
― Rumi

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10 Days of Gratitude: Days One-Three

I was sent a message encouraging me to  spend ten days, finding three things each day for which I was grateful.  It sent me on a journey of remembrance–things I hadn’t thought about for years. It was hard at first, but by the time I reached Day 10  I found I was frustrated that I was limited to only three items per day.  

Here is how it started…..

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Nature Triumphant!!

morning glories

morning glories

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Spring is a fascinating time of year  in New York City, because you never know what beauty you might suddenly encounter in the most unlikely places.  The two photos above are of an abandoned house on the hill between Wadsworth Avenue and Broadway at 186th Street, which inspired me to write this tribute…

This was an abandoned three-story townhouse,

once deeply beloved, now boarded up

and left to disintegrate and die

because no one loved it. Then there was a change.

A graffiti artist hand-painted a huge swirling design on the front of the house

with bold red and blue strokes.

I love you, the artwork said.

The next Spring, morning glories sprang up,

winding themselves through and around the razor-blade barbed wire  in front of the house;

using the deadly wire as a trellis for their bright green leaves and purple flowers.

We love you, was their message.

All through the Summer, climbing ivy wrapped itself  around the house

covering the boarded windows in rustling leaves,

In the fall those leaves exploded into color with deep red, orange, and brown

before they left.

But the ivy wasn’t finished; it had left a final gift

When the last of the leaves had fallen it revealed:

The ivy’s vines had coated the house in a delicate lace

from top to bottom.

The house had thought it was unloved; it was wrong.

Nature had adopted it as part of her family.

 

Photos and poem by Greta M. Herron, April 28, 2014