This past October we led one of our Writing on the Wild Edges retreats on the beautiful island of Inismor off the coast of Galway. We will be sharing some of the writing which participants gave us permission to share here in the next few weeks. Up next are poems by Pamela Smith.
Something about a Door
Something there is about a door,
Each evokes a closer knowing.
This door, unassuming grey and weather worn;
Another, cracked, abandoned in slouched disarray.
A ponderous roughly hewn door of darkened wood;
It’s neighbored door mantled in tendrils of gracious green.
A whimsical little red round door, childlike and welcoming;
The ordinary sturdy practical door, color carefully chosen,
The ornate pompous door with glass panels reflecting light…
All of them so strikingly unique yet reassuringly alike!
Passing through each one, a different voice:
A muffled thump, a time perfected creak, a brittle clink, a tenor voice, a vibrating clank, a tuneful jangle,
A decisive snap.
Opening or closing, deliberate or faltering,
Perhaps a glorious homecoming ; a fresh start
But equally a bittersweet departure; or permanent ending.
Standing on a threshold, I reach my hand toward the knob, the ring, the handle, the latch…
In the fleeting space of neutrality
comes an echo of re-membering.
A door I so surely had opened and reluctantly shut ,
Can, and will be, opened again
By my hand or….. yours!
The thin place:
A Haiku for all who feel the clutch of grief:
Pain shards, relentless
Time feels tainted, healing stalled,
Hope waits it’s moment.
© Pamela Smith
Pamela Smith lives in Southwest Harbor, Maine, surrounded by the many borders of the unique and beautiful Acadia National Park. She has two magnificent adult sons and one grandson whom she deeply treasures! Before recent retirement, she worked as a nurse massage therapist, which was both avocation and vocation; her work with bereaved clients led her to becoming a Hospice singer in a group she helped form. Music has always companioned her, especially now, as she figures out how to navigate retirement and living alone. When not singing Pamela can be found wandering in the Park, photographing, reading, zentangling, volunteering in the community, communing with soul friends, and being fully present to whatever and whomever the moment brings. She is also very much a pilgrim and finds great joy in being part of this sacred Abbey of the Arts.