Photo by Johan J.Ingles-Le Nobel on Flickr
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.
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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.
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Talking To Strangers by Elaine Shpungin is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 3.0 Unported License.
