maybe there is something about the seventh of June: Gwen, Prince, and me...or maybe people just have to be born at some time...and there are only three hundred sixty-five days or three sixty-six every four years or so...meaning that some things happen at the same time in the same rising sign...and the same houses in Gemini...but some of us might also consider the reincarnating evolving restructuring that spirit...reshaping that spirit...releasing that spirit...tucking the useless inside and when the useless pushes out again we restructure again and poetry and song and praisesong go on... because it is the right thing to do
we will always cry when a great heart... a good soul... one of the premier poets of her age restructures... reincarnates... revolves into a resolve the we now carry in our hearts... as all great women and men are alive... not by biology but remembrance... and that's alright... as the old folks say... because as long as they stay on the lips... the nestle our hearts and those souls which are planted... continue growing... until generations not knowing their touch... their voice... or even the fact that some Chicago poets are terrible cooks... but always fun to eat with... will tell tales of having met someone who knew someone who once watched a basketball game... in which some Chicago poet cheered for Seattle at the request of some Virginia poet who wanted more games... while Mr. Blakely was amazed that a Chicago poet was even watching the game... and didn't we miss him as he slipped away watching baseball... and what a way to go... though we then did sort of know... that once gone... he would call the woman he loved
and so we come to no more phone calls at six a.m. to chat... and no more Benihana when we are all in New York... and no more gossiping and questioning and trying to make sense of a senseless world... no more face-to-face... only the poetry which is a great monument from this Topeka daughter to the world...
and yet... there can be no complaints in this passing... no sorrow songs... no if onlys... it is all here: the work the love: the woman who gave and gave and gave... no complaints of too long and too hard... no injustice of accident or misunderstanding of disease... just one great woman moving into the next phase... and us on the ground... giving Alleluias
Posted by Raven Barnes
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