This poem came out of Art Speaks on Sept 5. I wrote from an art banner quote, and it became a poem about hope—without ever using the word. Does that come through? See the photo
Waiting to Be Known
Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be known. – Carl Sagen
These days, something incredible
waits in the corner,
fluffed and feathered.
I feel it
through the deep inhale
and the longer exhale
of a single breath
that moves beyond fear,
shedding that tightness
at the heart of my being.
It’s there
in the pastel promise
just before the sun
lifts up a fresh day,
in spite of yesterday.
I see it in the goldfinch
that clings to the zinnia,
feeding on seeds,
preparing to migrate
to a place of arrival
and survival.
I smell it in the rain
that returns life
to wilting marigolds
where bees nuzzle nectar dust.
It’s that one big fuzzy bee
pollen-drunk
in the center
of a fuchsia cosmos
in honey-scented dreams.
And yes, it still perches
in the quiet of me,
never having stopped at all,
only waiting – to be known.