sing spring

Is there any greater demonstration in nature reminding us of the process of renewal than spring?  The movement of the earth and all its creatures literally engages every human sense as the old recedes, is washed away and the new bursts forth.  Listen —

Get up.  Get out.  Get on with it —

Get over it.  And into it.

Spring is here —

Or so I hear —

I hear the rushing of water from every direction. 

Whooshing for the nearest sewer grate.  

Bellowing wider and wider channels through the remaining patches of ice.  

Gurgling under the now transparent surface of the lake. 

Running hard —

And laughing harder.

I hear rustling, bustling —

And unbundling.

Splashing.  Chirping. 

Flitting.  Flirting.

Arms linking. 

Feet tapping. 

Hearts beating.

I hear.

Spring is here.

© Julie Stevens 2009

happy together

I wrote this poem for my parents in 2000 when they retired and starting spending more time at their home on Happy Valley Road.  This August marks 50 years of happy together for them. 

On Happy Valley Road

(for mom and dad)

 

two different people

with desires and interests

that don’t always collide

make room for insecurities

and truthful opinions

and moods sometimes inconvenient

to the other’s agenda

 

their love knows the way

to ease discomfort

to act in time

to show gratitude

for sharing a lifetime

 

they hold the other’s dreams close

travel the narrow path together

bless each other’s solo ventures

return to truth and beauty

celebrate what is good

treasure what is made of differences

a blending of each soul’s influence

possible only through love

with you

Mother Mary

We come to your garden

to remember Him.

At your feet we lay our gratitude

for your grace.

We surrender our earthly burdens

and accept the mystery of your miracle.

Mary, with your image in our hearts,

we possess everlasting calm.

We worry not if or when

our gardens will bloom,

trusting by His hand

all beauty meant for us

will be perfectly timed.

 

Ó Julie Stevens 1999

sliding barn doors

There is nothing more sacred and beautiful than the glimpse of another soul. 

By invitation only and temporary in nature, it is one of life’s most reverent acts. 

Not about possessing, eclipsing, shadowing — or becoming one, the bonding of two souls is based in recognition and understanding.   They orbit in a kind of truth and beauty that closes earthly distance while respecting the divine mystery that both separates and draws them together. 

plant me if you will

in the wide open

the field of possibilities

where fingertips can touch

and sometimes do

where the wind blows

between affectionate differences

exposing a consoling contrast

and ordinary sense of peace

 

let me have in my view

the strong and steady place

where he is home

and all is well

where barn doors slide

open and shut

and by grace I find myself

received quietly on the threshold

where in a temporary opening

I behold the wonder inside

he doesn’t want to play anymore

you could ask for a slow spin on the axis

as the sun sets on your time together

a wide twirl of your skirt while the shadows creep in

and fall across his face like a wayward lock of hair

fingertips lingering until they fade one drop at a time

gently so gently into complete darkness

but it’s usually a hard stop

that marks the end of things

time is suddenly called in one mind

while the other keeps skating circles

and if you can’t stop the world on its axis

gently so gently you stop yourself from spinning.

true love 4

True love

Offers transfiguration

Inviting us

Daring us

Begging us

To stand naked

Before the one

We adore

At the moments we

Fear most we will

Not be heard

Or not be accepted

True love beckons

But it cannot, will not force

It weeps

Over lost chances

But stands firm

When lovers take cover

The shallow breathing

And gentle tears of

True love surround

The hurt ones

And wait as

Only true love

Has the patience

To wait

For another chance.

© Julie Stevens 2003

true love 3

True love

Is a beautiful story

That never ends

Always engaging

Holding interest

In the question marks

The unknown, the yet to be revealed

True love

Compels us to

Turn the pages

Over a lifetime

Of unwinding moments

We laugh we cry we run

From the feelings we fight

Gently putting it down

Or carelessly tossing it aside

Always to pick it up

And again with

Faith and courage

Read on.

© Julie Stevens 2002

true love 2

True love

Deepens with the

Passage of time

Through distance

And silence,

It stays on the wings

Of each lover’s dreams

Emerges in the

Quiet corners of surrender

A warm soothing hand

That asks nothing

Needs nothing

Exists in spite of

And because of

Cannot be willed into being

Or wished away

True love simply is

Is the air we breathe without thinking

The sun that warms but does not burn

The loose embrace that holds fast

While setting free

True love dances only

When it is time

And not before

It comes without being called

And its presence lights

The darkest solo crossings

True love

The love of changed lives

And new hearts

Cannot, will not

Be ignored

It gives confidently

Expecting nothing in return

And its greatest reward is the act of loving.

© Julie Stevens 2001

true love 1

In honor of Valentine’s Day, I post my “true love” series which includes four poems I wrote between 2000 and 2003.  At the time I wrote these I was trying to answer the question “how do you know when love is true?”  Joining true with love seems redundant to me today. 

If it is indeed love, then of course it is true.

True love

Does not wait

Does not hesitate

It moves confidently

Gently urgently

Into the night

Whispers the truth

In the quiet chambers

Of the heart

Sings as a child

Uninterrupted without reservation

And the world’s greatest lovers

Dance to its voice

True love is

Unforced unformed

Unimagined before its arrival

Immediately consumed

And celebrated on its first meeting

True love

The love of changed lives

And miraculous beginnings

Cannot, will not

Be ignored

It is the ceaseless beckoning

The playful knocking

On the window of one’s mind

That keeps one awake

Into the new day

Breathless with the anticipation

Of one with whom life

Is no longer conceivable without.

 

© Julie Stevens 2000

before trust

Like so much of what I wrote during this era, this reflects a powerlessness that was very real to me at the time.  I couldn’t see the connection between forcing things to be how I thought they ”should be” and landing in the dumpster.

dumpster-do

the alley way of your mind

where you wait for the wind

to knock you down

get knocked out of you

where the other shoe never fits

always eventually drops

and where running leads

only to dark corners

blocked passageways

the perpetual dumpster

high heels skating

circles in the air

at the end of

lifeless legs.