Here in You: A Poem

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It is always a
coming home,
a remembering,
the air whip thin
and sparkling
a sundance of
unfiltered joy
the crackling
under the feet
of a whole
cycle of life
preparing for
its journey
down, out,
through,
standing still
no matter
where you are
to find yourself
at the epicenter
of the language
of birdsong,
and you don’t
want to
decipher it
because
you realize
you already
understand.
You know you
are here
in you.
 
– TS

The Beauty of Loss

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A memory is not
a hole
or an empty space
creating fissures
in the wind,
anymore than a flower
is its missing petals
that discovered
their time to say
goodbye.
Why is it we look
and regard the world
from a place of
such wholeness,
only to complicate
what is absent,
or no more?
It is the full vitality
of what is
that allows even
for our experience
of loss.
We are always
what is. – TS

New Poem Published!

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Hello!

Thank you so much for being here and for reading my poems (and viewing my photos) – it means so much to me!

It snowed last night here in Japan. Where I live, we hardly get any snow, maybe a few flurries that don’t stick to the ground. Today, a playground of white! A walk in the fluffiness last night opened my heart wide open. I’m Canadian – I grew up digging ice rink in the backyard between two ancient crab apple trees. I love snow!

An even better day to wake up and receive news that I’ve had a poem published in First Literary Review  -East. It’s not about snow, but it is about home, memory and time.

I hope you enjoy it! You can find it among really great poems second-to-last here.

Have a great day/night!

 

Path to Light

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Notice how the eye
reaches first for the light,
how the heart sings
into the great distances
beyond, into the joy
that brightens our horizons.
Then, after resting
in ecstatic wonder,
now in repose,
the shadows come to view,
slowly, not before we
are ready, and we
do not succumb
to the darkness.
No, now we notice
how the shadows frame
our view, how they
pose no obstacle,
how they sift through
our consciousness,
soft tendrils of our
pained memories,
and how they give us
our path to light. – TS

Memory (It’s Always Love)

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The overgrowth
the times that were
crowding into the
space of me,
lush reminders
of the juices that
continue to dance
through my veins,
the flowers that
grow on bones
in floral remembrance.
The times that were!
I rush to move
the words through me,
to have them leak
from my fingers
into the world
but they come too fast,
or not at all.
Still the sun beats,
Still the way is lit.
So it must be done,
and one just moves on,
One just carries on. – TS

We/Memorial (Poem)

Tammy T. Stone in Kyoto.

Tammy T. Stone in Kyoto.

Blue carpets like the sea
Learning how to braid
Using hair ribbons and
The leg of a chair
My mother taught me
She let me help her make French toast
When I was too sick
To go to my best friend’s birthday party
I was inconsolable until she consoled me

My sister’s room seventies brown and orange
With a toy horse in the corner
She would jump up and down
On the coiled springs
Smiling big
Bubbly and reaching out to the whole world
Once I walked by as she bounced on the horse
Her hair flying up
She-demon of day
She terrified me

Sunday family night with Disney movies
Living room lit by the phosphorescence of the TV screen
Sitting on chairs we squeezed together
A new configuration
We felt like fairy tale princesses
Seduced by the late hour, giddy
We must have purred like cats do
When strong arms hold gently and massage
Nothing was better

Except the living room floor
And our tent made from pink and yellow blankets
Ready made to receive the room’s warm incandescence
In just the right amount
Tucked under coffee table legs
Hung from ceiling lights
Crawling through to sit on the soft blanketed floor
Pillows for chairs
And another treat
Pizza dinner
No interruptions
And sweet dessert.

This was where I was a child and
I never liked sleeping with my teddy bears
But had them all around me.