Graduation Girl
for D'Anthra Branica Adderley
how threatened are we, is love, is what we have
is fancy, fantasy up against reality, do these compete
can what is imagined, imaginary, with what is real, compete
can love withstand life's exigencies, its ups and downs
this earth, this world's going round and round
world which spun up together, put us together
will it spin us apart, take us apart
bits and pieces of love, petals here and there
of what was a flower, a flowering tree or a flowering plant
oh, I should, this evening, provide her with flowers
or today send her flowers, somewhere, somehow, someway
this poem full of petals, some attached, some fallen
shall have to suffice
she was sleepy last night, when she took and sent pictures
and she had a tummy ache, shared her face with me anyway
sweetest person I know, sweetest girl in the world
what is it, what is this that I am in love with
who is it- who she is or who she isn't
do I know the self she knows- love the self, the soul she loves
what of D'Anthra her mother conceived, delivered,
kept, knows, loves, is anxious about
from what perspective do I see her, know her,
how do I love her, see her, compared with her father
am I prepared really to love her forever
will I love her whatever happens, comes, turns up
ugly, pretty or whatever
what will become of her love for me- of my love for her
will they grow or will they die
require a grave or will love we know, love we share
come from the sky, again touch heaven
what of her grandparent's love and mine
how do these compare
where has this love of ours come from
where will it take her, take me, take us
will it take us together- will it take us apart
will we tell the world of us
will she forever have to keep us a secret
I on the other hand wanting the world to know
wanting to tell the world
am I telling to be rid of us
like sins we confess to get rid of
Lord God Almighty, I want us to keep
I am only now getting to know her
flower that she is is sour and sweet
flowers and fruit, fresh a short time
oh God Almighty is she not a tree
has she not got seasons
must I not prune and tend her, must I not be tender
even as LOVE that you are are
loving us with hurricane and lightning
with sunshine and rain
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2010
8:08 a.m. 10.06.10
posted by Obie Quiet at 8:53 AM
2 Comments:
OBI wow this is truly truly a masterpiece. Absolute perfection. The rhyme is so exciting and so right. This gata get you the Nobel Prize ...at least for love.
Yur sweet an' yur kine. I always happy when I reach you - when I touch you. I am always happy when we are connected. Is there any name, any label for our relationship? Are we to continue without name and without label still? I want to call it something. I do know what I call it though. What I want to know is what you call it - what you call me? How do you refer to us even in your own heart and head? How do you refer to us to yourself? You are the blood and the life in me.
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