Recovering

Pushing and pulling.
Slamming from the inside,
"Please let us out!"
My body cries as I am drifting away,
Going, going, falling, falling, away, away.

My mind wants to race my heart.
Who will get to the finish line first?
My tongue will out-talk them all.

I have no control as of now.
My body wants to rest.
The rest of them want to wonder.

I drift away, O I drift away.
My mind leaves them all in dust,
In the dark he goes and smokes,
Puffs away his long day.

My heart goes and takes a bath,
She needed to soak away her ache.
My tongue finds a way to speak to the midnight owl,
She wants to spread the words of yesterday.

Just before the morning light,
All gather together and say goodnight.
They had a long night,
But well recovered to face the world tomorrow.
-Serena Theberge

Waiting on Morning

The fire is roaring
with a lush
wild energy
that plays on
every string in my body . . .

Life is about
to begin,
again;
with a bright
new day.

Across the bay
the sky opens up,
shy, hesitant
but resolute.

Clouds hold still;
there's a celstial awe
in the air . . .
as I wait
with an open heart
on morning
to whisper in
a good day.

-Kurt Kristensen

Letter Listing Reasons

There are reasons I love
the fence-climbing rose,
the night-blooming jasmine

you planted beside the front
porch, their scents
emerging in the spring air.

I know I should love
the dark green speedwell,
tiny white watercress,
flat mudwort exposed
on sand bars, in summer
low tides, wapato, yellow

water-flag that scatters hard
mahogany seeds in late
fall, small flowered forget-

me-nots transplanted by the pier,
purple loosestrife, heavy-
headed nodding beggarticks,

bog trefoil, pennyroyal, toad-
rush, cow parsnip, the brief
pink nookta rose of early

May. But enough, these too
are reasons I love your domestic rose, your night-
blooming jasmine settled
by the porch, their scents
gracing the still evening air.

-David FilerPortland, Oregon