In thinking about my friend’s birthday request I discovered that the things I love and value most – my Relationship with my partner, my Children, spending time in the company of Friends, learning and living NVC and RC – are the hardest to give away.
This poem tries to capture that insight.
On Being Asked to Give a Stranger A Gift I Love and Value
I cannot give away the waking of my heart:
the sugared scent of syrupy French toast
amidst the unfamiliar clang of pots,
him standing in an apron, spatula afloat,
after that first night when we cast our lots.
I cannot give away the birth of motherhood:
the sun-warmed touch of skin against my skin
amidst the lull of clockless milky noon,
us breathing, turning, waking, as one tide,
one revolution of the filled-to-overflowing moon.
I cannot give away the savoring of friends:
the rippling laughter floating on wine breath
amidst the pearls of fruit and curves of cheese,
our voices weaving, overlapping waves
reflecting peace, exhaustion, gladness, ease.
But I can give the gift you’ve passed along:
of moving towards conflict, not away,
amidst the rising clang of disconnecting words,
the clarity that comes from hearing one by one
each note within the Circle’s swelling chords.
Talking To Strangers by Elaine Shpungin is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 3.0 Unported License.