Seven Things

Metaphorical starlings for sleepy days

Photo by James Wainscoat on Unsplash

Hello friends,

I’m exceptionally exhausted this weekend, so I’m sharing one of my favorite poems I’ve written. It brings me comfort when I’m feeling a bit down. It puts me in the sky with the starlings. I hope it will lift you up, too.

---

Sometimes the sky is so blue
my heart breaks because it’s
blue too, an empty bruise pulsing
with life, living in spite
of the hollowness.

A murmuration of starlings
arrives, swooping and swirling
in my cavernous ventricles
desperate to be filled. The birds
come together,
drift apart,
come together again. Each of them
focusing on only seven of
their brethren. Maybe I, too,
can find just seven things
to hold on to, seven things
to bring my broken pieces
back together.

A dandelion growing up
through the cracks, resilient
and determined, living for
the day when it will
ride on the wind.

A pot full of broth, simmering
on the stove, nourishment
in the form of discarded
vegetables and roasted bones and
herbs still fresh from the earth.

My mother’s embrace, almost
too tight, our pain and love
mingling like my fingers caught
in the spiderweb strands of her hair.

The steady breath of my
dog, curled up in the curve
of my stomach where I feel
my own breath begin to match
hers, deep and slow, like an ocean
flowing through us both.

The moon in the morning
sky, pale bone against faded blue,
as sunrise brings contrast
to the world. Cloud silk threads
spread pink across the horizon,
stretching soft fingers toward
the promise of infinity. 

The scent of decaying
leaves, sharp and sour
like the starter on my counter
waiting to become bread. 

Raindrops kissing the top
of my head, just like my dad
did when I was young, like he 
does to this day, to let me know
I’m still his little girl.

Seven things to anchor me, 
to keep me from drifting
too far out to sea, a 
lifesaving septet of wonder.

---

What are your seven things? Let me know in the comments. Let’s see how large we can make our flock of starlings.

Until next time,
Yardena

WEEKEND POTPOURRI:

• Currently on repeat:

• The most magical garlic clove you could dream up

• How sadness can be pleasurable

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