Poem for JL, 4-23-23

Sometimes,

someone,

something,

some thing,

some entity,

some superstition,

some specter,

moves me to write a poem.

You move me

with your potential

for mystery achievement.

This won’t be a

confessional,

ode,

sonnet,

sestina,

although you surely are worthy of these.

Your ass alone a haiku,

always worth writing

and rewriting.

It says in the Book of Job:

You sow the wind

so shall you reap the whirlwind

Is that you?

You might consider sowing seeds and harvesting what grows.

The seeds could be of anything. Use your heart. Use your imagination.

Fling seeds with abandon, utterly without grace, never with indifference.

Oh the joys of random germination and seeing sprouts!

Remember, sowing not the same as planting.

Perhaps we reap a whirlwind

and it flies us back to Cape Sebastian

to see those green coves again.