Superman

Today I “lifted” a way to create poetry from Kim K’s blog, Live, Love, Teach.  She wrote a poem based on a longer entry.  You can see both entries here:  her poem and her essay. 

I look at myself as an essayist and love to write in that format.  During this writing challenge, I have found myself drawn to poetry.  Below is a poem that I created from an essay that I wrote after the death of my ex-husband and friend this past October.  Here is the essay that I wrote in November.  And below is the poem built from the foundations of the essay.   Writing both were powerful experiences for me.  And both, though the same, are quite different.

Superman

I am a lover of stories—

when viewed with wisdom eyes

they become

metaphors allowing me

   to know and understand,

      to love foibles,

         to celebrate less than,

            to see it as greater than

               to hold reverently life as gift .

One of my stories

is shared with my

ex-spouse,

   the father of my children—

      disabled for 20 years.

Through the changes

of his body and mind

and our relationship

I remained his advocate,

   his caregiver

      his friend

till his passing.

For good or bad

   in marriage and  

      in friendship

he touched my life.

In the intermingling

of burden and blessing,

a bit of who I am

was kindly revealed,

fashioning a threshold

becoming.

He had a tenacity

that only he could harness—

an I can do anything

attitude that mocked his

wheelchair…

that taunted those telling him

   what would be good

      what would be possible.

He climbed tall buildings

    and pushed limits.

Sometimes to

my embarrassment and

   my dismay.

I got caught in “my story”—

   my agenda.

      my hurt.

and was mad at a man

who couldn’t

live within his boundaries—

wheelchair and all.

That’s just it.

Herein lies my lesson…

He was a Superman of sorts.

He pushed his limits

   with what he could do,

      with people

         with his disease.

He suffered

and he pushed.

Despite adversity,

he found a way.

His story  

   Is my story.

      is our story.

         is all of our story.

In pain and

   shortcomings we

     can find our path.

We can be our own Superperson.

He taught me this.

   Opened me up.

      to compassion

         to tenderness
            to tenacity.

When I thought

there was none.

I am a lover of Story.

Story is the portal that affirms meaning.

   Story reveals life.

      Story reveals self.

         Story reveals soul.

Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for dedicating space and time for teachers and teachers of literacy to come together to share ideas, practice and life experience.