golden drops / growing pains

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golden drops 

golden drops fall from the sky
dust swirls in faint patterns against the sunlight
feet sink in gushy patches of earth
veins light up with warmth and energy
souls collide and slam into my heart 
leaving me aching and breathless - 
pieces of me gently release to the ground,
to be stirred up once more before being swept away. 



I wrote this poem after writing the first draft of this blog. A poem felt way more fitting for these words, but I wanted to share the original draft with you, too: 

growing pains
"We did it!" my classmates shout as bubbly champagne spouts into the air. I run to the edge of the rooftop, dodging the foam drops. I take a sip from my mini champagne bottle and look out at Lake Superior, my main reference point for the past 11 months. 

The next day I spend organizing my textbooks, making space, dusting off my shelves. The dust makes my head fuzzy and I head out for an early evening walk, grateful for the sweet spring air. Trees were only just beginning to bud in Duluth, so I decide to walk to Begley, the nature area I always walked to in the fall to keep status on the changing leaves. Walking on the trails yields wet and gushy earth, and sprouts just poking through the dirt. I reach my favorite lookout spot and see the branches are sprinkled with tiny green buds - slowly and gently preparing to hold the beginnings of a new season. 

Within a couple days I am back in St. Paul, driving to the radiology clinic for my annual CT scan. I wince as the IV pricks my arm and then tell the radiologist that I am going to treat myself to Panera after this. In the bathroom after the scan, I take a photo of me in my hospital gown while throwing up a "peace" sign. I surprise myself by how casually I am moving through a normally very anxiety provoking process. 

"Actually, you can cut more off," I tell the hairstylist as we both observe my wet hair in the mirror. "just keep going." At the end she turns on her blow drier and I watch as the pieces of my hair float up into the air before settling gently to the ground. As I'm putting my coat on to leave, I watch them being swept up, making space for the next person who sits down.  



 "It Is Well" by Toulouse 

Comments

  1. madameplushbottomJune 1, 2022 at 8:02 PM

    Beautiful B and I really enjoy seeing this in poem form vs. narrative form. You are embracing life so beautifully. XO

    ReplyDelete

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