Poem 4, National Poetry Month: If I Had Arms

If I Had Arms

I had thought how,
if every woman
ground beneath
her bludgeon of regret could burst
forth into song, how even
her little boys and dandelions,
her daughters and her dreams
would burst forth along her side,
to match that jubilation.

I had thought how I wanted to
wrap my arms around Eve
and tell her everything was
going to be okay—
everything’s okay now
and how I would hold her
and rock her, like I was her mother
and she not mine.

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    • llbarkat
    • April 4th, 2014

    I really love the end of this:

    “like I was her mother
    and she not mine.”

    It’s reminding me of a section in Gillian Marchenko’s ‘Sun Shine Down,’ when she recalls going to visit her own mother in the hospital and realizes (now, as an adult) just what comfort a mother sometimes needs from her own child.

    I hope you write (and read) with us a bit over at Tweetspeak, C. Your poetry has undercurrents that I’d love to see grow stronger.

    • clbeyer
    • April 4th, 2014

    I’m deeply grateful for that encouragement, ll. You have been a strong inspiration for me in taking seriously my word love, as I simultaneously embrace the family roles I hold. In fact, I mention you in a first-time proposal I wrote to present to the editors at the Festival of Faith and Writing next week.

    It would be a gift to learn more from you and join up with the Tweetspeak circle.

    • llbarkat
    • April 4th, 2014

    Ah, very nice to hear. And so interesting, as I felt a kinship here… there is something about where your words are going (and like I said, I want to see them grow even more in the direction of the “you” I sense in them).

    Do enjoy the Festival! Many friends will be there (and I hope you bump into a few who hang out at Tweetspeak, like Ann Kroeker and Tania Runyan.)

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