Listening For Air

Grieving_woman
You lower your head,
stare at your hands,
wait for me as if I held a magic wand
that would dissolve the grey cloud

hovering too near. But I don’t
wave a wand or say
anything
as the anonymous traffic rumbles by…

along the busy street on the other side
of the wall. The ceiling
light fingers your hair, descends
the angles of your face, is trapped

in the ellipses that rain from your
heart.

I don’t say anything & you don’t say
anything. The cloud turns, wanders
toward the horizon the way a gunslinger
abandons his victim in the center of the street.

You raise your head, shake your hair,
sigh-smile.

I hear a little girl gasping for air
after holding her breath for too long
inside the dark body
of a lake,

how grateful she is
to breathe again.

-Erie Chapman

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4 responses to “Presence to Grief”

  1. Karen York Avatar
    Karen York

    Anything I attempt to write here pales in comparison to the magic and genius of this poem. Thank you for reminding us of the power of our healing presence.
    Karen

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  2. liz Wessel RN, MS SJHS Home Health Network, Orange, CA Avatar
    liz Wessel RN, MS SJHS Home Health Network, Orange, CA

    Through your images, I was moved from intellect to heart, from thought to feeling in an intimate way. The gift of your poetry.

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  3. Erie Chapman Avatar
    Erie Chapman

    Today’s meditation is an experiment. If poetry sometimes means saying things with fewer words, it also may mean spending more time reflecting on those words.
    The challenge I used to have reading poetry is that I tried to read it as short prose – to make sense of it the way prose is supposed to ‘make sense.’ Poetry became more enjoyable to me when I began to let the words flow over and through me without trying to understand each line – and to go back and read again, listening for sound, and feeling and soul.
    Thank you for your affirmation and encouragement.
    For truly great poetry, I encourage everyone to read the work of former American Poet Laureate Billy Collins.

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  4. Jan Keeling Avatar
    Jan Keeling

    Oh my, this is one of your finest, Erie.

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