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Thursday, November 2, 2023
This Gift of Presence
Wednesday, November 1, 2023
Just be here with me
Just be here with me Signed: The moon. The stars. Your still-hot-cup-of-coffee. Your daughter. Your son. Your spouse. Your heart. The green grass. The wild flowers. The waters you long to swim in. The color yellow. The color blue. Your favorite poem. Your favorite blanket. The wind in your hair. The waves on the ocean. The mountain air. Your dad. Your mom. The rain. The ice-cream cone. The butter sizzling with garlic in the frying pan. The grocery clerk with sad, kind eyes. Postcards waiting to be sent. The city squirrel. The country squirrel. Jupiter. The photo album. Your grandmother's rosary. Your favorite song. Ink and paper. Your best friend. The money in your wallet. The fork in your hand. Brushes and paint. Downward Facing Dog. The color turquoise. The almost invisible shade of pink. God. The skyline. The earth beneath your feet. A hammock. The shade of a giant tree. This moment, right here, now. Your bones. Your belly laugh. Your breath. Your breath. Your breath. https://morgandaycecil.com/just-be-here-with-me-project-1
Zoupa Musings is free today. But if you enjoyed this post, you can tell Zoupa Musings that their writing is valuable by pledging a future subscription. You won't be charged unless they enable payments.
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Sunday, October 29, 2023
Who's to say?
Who’s to say?
In a cut glass jar
high on a shelf,
this poem acts as a
powdered panacea
you mix with holy water
on special occasions.
It might be the water,
the occasion, the amount
mixed, the ritual, the weight
of your heart mind, the cumulative
effect, the level of your measure,
a remarkable phase of moon, but
(and it could simply be a placebo)
it seems to do the trick.
Who’s to say?
…
© DLWhite
10/29/23
11:59 pm
Wednesday, October 11, 2023
All of me nearly
________________
All of me nearly
We meet for a little while on a bench at yacht club just north of the South Shore Park Pavilion between the the boat launch ramp and yacht club. The gulls are squawking away. It’s surprisingly comfortable.
Or …. you pick a favored spot and give me three guesses.
Otherwise, we sit facing the same direction, east to Michigan, watching the clouds. It’s quiet. You know I have something to say. I appreciate your time. Thank you.
And, now with this breath, I hope with all my hoping, that you are not uncomfortable with me thinking of you, and sharing my thoughts, my ruminations, my rumpled paper poetry.
I feel it’s my best gift.
All of me nearly
…
for Katie
(c) DLWhite
October 11, 2023
2:49 am
Freshwater You
Freshwater You
I cherish the time I rang you
when I had to drop a client at
Freshwater or Florida and maybe
mumbled something about a hug.
Maybe. Maybe. Sounds like me.
You came out in a knit top that,
so unlike you, had a little hole in it
or was, maybe I don’t remember,
could it have been inside out?
It only occurs to me now, years later,
at the writing of this poem, that you,
working from home, had maybe not
been dressed for the weather, rushed
out to meet me grinning also anyways,
to trade a quick hug and three minutes
of “Hey.” And “Hey you.” and how do you do?
I hope this rings a bell with you,
or tunes up a crystal bowl singing
Freshwater, Freshwater, Freshwater you
…
for Katie
(c) DLWhite
10/11/23
2:00 am
Tuesday, October 10, 2023
Thursday, September 21, 2023
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