I was thinking about this yesterday, walking in the warm sun and remembering the snow and ice making the path difficult to walk a few months ago. The harshness never lasts. Beautiful poem!
My tendency towards tenderness has felt a lifetime of problematic,
but I would rather stretch my heart too big and nurture its tendrils than give into unyielding.
On my way to witness the burning of my neighborhood six blocks away six springs ago one late May morning, a few days after the life of George Floyd had been extinguished by the opposite of tenderness, I spotted a tiny green sprout reaching out from a crack in the concrete,
gentle juxtaposition to the hardness at hand, hope rising from the allure of impermeability, announcing here I am, I intend to live.
they do...I feel like I am holding my breath every day....its exhausting. Poetry will make us better...or at least help us to see...Art O'whirl this weekend. That might help...
Kaitlin, thank you for sharing Krissy’s beautiful and tender poem for today. The dropping of the petal-words at the end is gorgeous. And I love her book!
I'd like to tender my resignation
for having to be so strong.
to walk the days like
Spring is here!
all is well!
and to try and
not see the memorials
still sitting in the street.
Walking to get a donut,
going to see a friend.
Tender tears come at odd times
as we pass each other.
We know the grief
when we see it on each
others faces.
Its like their names are
in the wind
George, Daunte, Renee, Alex.
I live here too and know this grief. I spoke of it in my water contribution. Thank you for voicing this. Spring feels wrong and yet it has come.
Thank you for such an honest poem; the mix of general and specific hit me...especially that last line.
Do-nuts with yesterday's bare feet.
heaven...
You have powerfully expressed the incongruity of the season and feelings of sorrow and grief in your poem, Stacie.
thank you.... I am learning from all of you....
look how ice melts
in the warm breath
of spring. how its
harshness never lasts.
see how seeds soften and
shed their coats, how soil
holds them in their waking.
all this tenderness
calling in a new world.
***
I love this prompt today! And love meeting poets in this series ❤️
I was thinking about this yesterday, walking in the warm sun and remembering the snow and ice making the path difficult to walk a few months ago. The harshness never lasts. Beautiful poem!
Shalom
tender, tender, sleek and slender
tight as the skin of a drum
watch the way she walks the border
ready for healing to come
8-7-8-7 the number of syllables per line.
It gives an all over satisfying symmetry to your words.
I've set it to simple melody upon the second reading of the poem.
Beautiful.
Thank you for picking that up. I taught classical meter for decades and it sometimes slips in.
Well, it did in this short and sweet poem.
My tendency towards tenderness has felt a lifetime of problematic,
but I would rather stretch my heart too big and nurture its tendrils than give into unyielding.
On my way to witness the burning of my neighborhood six blocks away six springs ago one late May morning, a few days after the life of George Floyd had been extinguished by the opposite of tenderness, I spotted a tiny green sprout reaching out from a crack in the concrete,
gentle juxtaposition to the hardness at hand, hope rising from the allure of impermeability, announcing here I am, I intend to live.
oh this! here I am, I intend to live...beautiful.
how did this prompt bring us both to Mr. Floyd and the others?...thank you.
The power of poetry! I have not been able to metabolize all these tragic layers. They keep accumulating.
they do...I feel like I am holding my breath every day....its exhausting. Poetry will make us better...or at least help us to see...Art O'whirl this weekend. That might help...
Ahh yes, so inspirational. Enjoy! I will be birding.
Tired
Eyes
Need
Dark
Elusive
Rest
I feel this today - beautifully expressed.
Very cool!
A tender shoot pushes forth from the ground.
Wait…
.
Tender?
.
How can something tender worm its way
through dirt, shoving its way up and up.
.
A biological imperative?
.
The new shoot bobs and weaves
with the gentle breezes,
Bending first one way and then another.
.
The young child laying on the ground,
head propped on curled fists as she
watches the new shoot
swaying in the breeze.
.
One tender young child,
staring at another tender young life.
How can something so tender shove its way up!! Love this.
See, there:
what happens
when strength in spring
teaches that toughness
and tenderness walk, singing,
hand in hand, astonishment at life
persisting, insistent that beauty's lair
be found, despite everything.
Thanks for sharing, always good to read Krissy's work. :)
Thanks so much, Heidi! toughness and tenderness hand in hand--I love that.
We’re so tender
We pass the agony of our lost pets
Across the invisible network of mysteries
To those we will never know.
Sharing names,
Posting pictures of
the love we may have lost.
A Tuxedo cat named Jack
Or a small terrier looking trustingly
into strangers’ eyes.
“He ran out the door before I could stop him.”
“He slipped the leash when he saw the cat.”
“She never came home for her supper—
I left the bowl on the back step.
Please help, she is my best friend.”
Then the leap of the heart when
she is found.
The silent unseen tear when
he does not return home.
A stream of keyboarded words
tumbling down a screen
to bind human hearts together.
This is the kindness we offer
The knitted love between strangers
The tenderness that
Will save the world.
I feel this deeply. So true. Thank you.
I also feel this deeply. I also wrote a poem about a beloved pet. Our human hearts truly are united in tender love for our four-legged companions.
Tender is the night,
they say,
but I have found
out different…
.
When waking to
blackness deep
and unknowns many,
memory failing
to recover how
we arrived here in
this old darkened house…
.
There is no tenderness
to be found in age
nor in time,
only the ravages of
a life well lived.
A strong back soft front
Tough business when heart is
Truly tender space.
(*finding that balance can be so challenging)
So true -- but a necessary balance, if not a survival skill.
~ Remembering Tenderness ~
In this tender moment,
As you nestle your furry, white head
Against my neck,
Your laboured breathing slows,
And your warm body relaxes against my belly.
I wish I could hold onto you forever,
I wish I could care for you forever,
My gentle, sweet companion.
/
I had to release you almost five years ago.
Yet today,
Unexpectedly,
A one-word poetry prompt brings you back to me.
Not just as memory,
But as presence I can feel in my body and heart.
My gentle, sweet companion ❤️🩹
The tender spots--?
Thumbprints of God,
moulding us human.
Peering from the lookout
I see the harshness of this world
the rough edges, the callous spaces
compel me to recoil
and cower in this tower.
I become a fortress
tough and battle ready
but it’s cold in here
and I’m alone.
The space I’ve made to stay safe
is but a hollow fortress
set apart and siloed.
I no longer wish to retreat
in hopes to keep from breaking.
Let the drawbridge descend
and bridge the moat
even as I’m aching.
I’m learning the gift of
letting my guard down
to give the sore spots some air
to own the sincerity of sensitivity.
A crack in the outer shell
welcomes an inner belonging
Held in the tension of a world
as broken as it is beautiful
as tough as it is tender
as maddening as it is miraculous.
Let this heart be ready for anything–
raw, yet in awe.
I love this!💕
The prompt reminded me of this poem I wrote in December:
Always, always
a peeling back of the layers;
stripped bare, you can see clearly
the tenderness at the center was
quietly waiting there.
Kaitlin, thank you for sharing Krissy’s beautiful and tender poem for today. The dropping of the petal-words at the end is gorgeous. And I love her book!
Tender I come to the atelier of my soul
Even a trace of pressure leaves a bruise
Tender are the hands
that restore my soul
with the flow of
quiet waters
and
green
creativity.