Finding Poems

by Bryan F. Warsaw

__________________________________________

Jessie,
On your mother’s couch, huddled over
a laptop
filled with hoarded treasures.
“From where do poems come,” you read…
We sat, smiling, musing, each of us- almost strangers-

gathered in a circle, nodding our heads,
knowing they come when they damn well please,
And rarely, so rarely,
when sought.

Terri,
Your writing, held in shaking hands,
self-conscious as a nervous titter escaped
your lips
Then, deep breath, and you
prayed, implored for a seed of life-
One kernel, a spark-
Seeking that which was most elusive.

Collectively, we prayed for fertility
I, to Kokopelli,
Kachina Spirit,
in a room of minds focused
silently
on your barren womb.

Somewhere, Someone listened.

Within you now is the first stirring of your greatest work-
a thousand unspoken words,
a hundred songs unsung,
a lullaby lusting for lyrics.
One celebrated poem found
by two in love,
not in dusty corners, but in the midst of a room
full of prayer.

A glorious poem,
whose verses will echo
for time without end.

_______________________________________________________

(Photo above, “Window Dressing and Me” by Lydia Selk)

ABOUT THE POET

Bryan F. Warsaw is a secondary school English teacher who resides in Suffolk County on eastern Long Island, in New York. He is an award-winning poet with deep interests in writing, photography, fishing, and hunting. He is extremely virile and presently single. (All offers considered.)

______________________________________