Sandra Heska King

daring to open doors

A Found Poem for Megan (repost)

By

still-still-still
Sometimes when you’re sandwiched between crises

and you’re going through it without your mother,

you just need to come out and play a little polo,

find your balance with some red clover.

Maybe slip your laptop into the red case

and head to some sweet spot that sells veggies

with a little turkey. Because that’s how you roll

when you contain multitudes

and you need to take a stanza break,

and breathe,

maybe write a book.

But because today’s your birthday and you are the gift,

we’re going to chase some pickups and pick up some pieces.

So you just have to sing along and remind yourself that

still. still. still.

it’s all going to be okay.

 

BIRTHDAY MEGAN

 

A quickly pieced poem from several Megan’s blog posts… with a few additions of my own words. Love you, friend. You are a gift. And happy birthday. Again.

In the stillness,

Sandy

Comments

  1. Andrew Budek-Schmeisser says

    That’s beautiful, Sandra!

    May I offer another, one that has helped me? It’s from the pen of Henry Lee, an officer with the US Army in the Philippines at the beginning of WW2. He didn’t survive.

    I see no gleam of victr’y alluring,
    no hope of splendid booty of of gain.
    If I endure, I must go on enduring
    and my sole reward for bearing pain – is pain.
    Yet though the thrill, the zest, and the hope are gone,
    something within me keeps me fighting on.

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