All my life, I have heard the adage: “Count your blessings.” It works for me. And our friends at Grateful Living offer myriad ways to cultivate gratitude. Romanian novelist Petru Dumitriu witnessed and did some terrible deeds in his life. Yet he was still amazed by a beam of light striking a staircase or a jumble of kittens playing on a lawn. Or prayer. He concluded that a wondrous asymmetry prevails on earth. On the one hand, our world’s brokenness, cruelty, and evil. On the other hand, wonder, joy, and awe. The quality of the latter “outweighs” the nearly suffocating quantity of the former. For Christians, it is the mad trust that Crucifixion is not the last word. Resurrection is. Love just won’t die. Beauty raises its resplendent head.
That’s a pretty heavy way to introduce “Weird Stuff I Love,” a light poem about simple joys: bicycling, basketball, birds.
Rolling out the drive on my blue bike
when there’s no traffic on Silverbell,
Flying across five lanes and downhill
Past the flagpoles, kids screaming at recess,
The library, and the acacias that will soon smell
Like heaven.
Prying my basketball out of my filthy backpack
When all four courts are empty and no grounds guys
Blow leaves with what sound like chain saws.
The first bounce under the solar panel canopy.
Standing near the three-point arc and feeling
My elbow line up just right as the pebbly ball
Leaves my palms and I’m pretty sure it will swish.
It does.
I’m right back in Kokomo behind Craig’s
House, the hoop above the garage door.
Inside, an unlocked plugged-in Coke machine
Stands, red and ready to give up cold
Bottles for free.
Catching sight: a vermilion flycatcher flits
As I walk to the green courts or roll along
the Santa Cruz trickle. Poppy-red,
They perch on park signposts and ball field fences,
And in crooked black-sap feather-leaf mesquites.
Or a blue stock-still heron meditating
In the pebble-bed shallows or tricking fish
With his reedy legs, or just glad to get
Out of the nest and soak her twiggy feet
In the glittering cold flow.
Lovely images! Thank you, and happy Valentine’s Day. From a school mate (’68) of Tessa’s at Trinity College
Thanks, Frances. A joy to hear from a Trinity alum.
The poem is “swish” and you did it.
Thanks, Sharon! We do need an alternative to “slam dunk,” which is physically impossible for me (and always was). So “swish” it is!
I am in love! It’s the little things, a lovely way to introduce yourself. I want to read more!
Pleased to make your acquaintance, Tanay! When I was younger, I was probably more “theological” or “philosophical,” but in this season of life, “it’s the little things,” as you say, that move me: tangible, visible. And, although it doesn’t show up in this poem: edible!
A three-point poetic shot!
Thanks, Jerry! Hope you are wintering well in the San Luis Valley. It’s normal for you, but we were surprised this morning to wake up to melting snow on roofs and yards.
This is really great Dave, I can picture the whole thing!
Thanks, Mike. Stop by and we can try to spot a heron or flycatcher. Or shoot some hoops.
Thanks for the Valentine, friend! Really lovely.
You’re welcome, Paula! Don’t forget to drop by when you’re in the neighborhood. We’ll have a poetic breakfast.