Plenty of Processing and a Few Poems (A Poem for the Class of 2020)
Living gratefully today, I embrace this particular moment for what it is. A time and place where I am honoring writing and true presence. Both open me to spiritual and emotional clarity.
Processing. Transforming. Clarifying. Purging. Extracting. Plenty of that going on currently and over the course of my life. Sometimes I have been a willing participant, and at other times I seemed to be the last one to know what was unfolding. Most of the time, I am somewhere between 100% willing and 100% stuck.
Pandemic. Cancer. Graduation. Anniversaries. Grief. College. Alcoholism. Goals. These are some of the things moving in and through my head and heart. From time to time a poem will emerge to help distill the meaning and emotion surrounding whatever I may be writing about.
Here is one I started a few weeks ago, in late May, as Sam's high school days ended. I revisited it a few times and typed it up earlier this week. One poem can't capture it all, but this extracted some:
What Else? (A Poem for the Class of 2020)
Walked out for spring break with no idea
you would never walk back in as a student.
No senior privileges for you.
Just social restrictions and imposed limits.
Losing the opportunity to revel in the glory of walking the halls
in the final weeks of senior year, the world at your feet.
No final sports seasons, no last goodbyes to teachers.
Prom, awards night, and time together were
other victims of this unusual set of circumstances
called a global pandemic.
An appreciation parade earlier in May, and a
drive-through drop off/pick up on your last official day,
gave you a chance to greet teachers and brought
the trappings of graduation—cap, gown, diploma, yearbook.
The uncertainty of pandemic times was compounded by
the unrest of racial tensions. After being quarantined for
several weeks, next you were “curfewed” for a few nights.
Your time with each other took new forms.
Signs in yards and banners at the baseball field, news coverage
in print and video across social media, all signified
how your school and community wanted to honor the Class of 2020
in the ways that were possible when normal was not.
Graduation day became a rolling parade over hours.
Vehicles decorated, and graduates in blue.
A beautiful early June evening and a shared family experience.
It was brief, but something we all appreciated.
It was something at least, yet strange and lacking too.
Seniors taking it in stride, bouncing back and looking forward.
Young adults swinging at the curve balls as they came.
You were able to hit a few up the middle.
The middle of emotions and new memories.
LV May/June, 2020
Processing. Transforming. Clarifying. Purging. Extracting. Plenty of that going on currently and over the course of my life. Sometimes I have been a willing participant, and at other times I seemed to be the last one to know what was unfolding. Most of the time, I am somewhere between 100% willing and 100% stuck.
Pandemic. Cancer. Graduation. Anniversaries. Grief. College. Alcoholism. Goals. These are some of the things moving in and through my head and heart. From time to time a poem will emerge to help distill the meaning and emotion surrounding whatever I may be writing about.
Here is one I started a few weeks ago, in late May, as Sam's high school days ended. I revisited it a few times and typed it up earlier this week. One poem can't capture it all, but this extracted some:
What Else? (A Poem for the Class of 2020)
Walked out for spring break with no idea
you would never walk back in as a student.
No senior privileges for you.
Just social restrictions and imposed limits.
Losing the opportunity to revel in the glory of walking the halls
in the final weeks of senior year, the world at your feet.
No final sports seasons, no last goodbyes to teachers.
Prom, awards night, and time together were
other victims of this unusual set of circumstances
called a global pandemic.
An appreciation parade earlier in May, and a
drive-through drop off/pick up on your last official day,
gave you a chance to greet teachers and brought
the trappings of graduation—cap, gown, diploma, yearbook.
The uncertainty of pandemic times was compounded by
the unrest of racial tensions. After being quarantined for
several weeks, next you were “curfewed” for a few nights.
Your time with each other took new forms.
Signs in yards and banners at the baseball field, news coverage
in print and video across social media, all signified
how your school and community wanted to honor the Class of 2020
in the ways that were possible when normal was not.
Graduation day became a rolling parade over hours.
Vehicles decorated, and graduates in blue.
A beautiful early June evening and a shared family experience.
It was brief, but something we all appreciated.
It was something at least, yet strange and lacking too.
Seniors taking it in stride, bouncing back and looking forward.
Young adults swinging at the curve balls as they came.
You were able to hit a few up the middle.
The middle of emotions and new memories.
LV May/June, 2020
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