19.10.05

There have been many wonderful things that have come out of my storm experience and the best of these are the connections I have made with beautiful, loving people all over the United States. Several of these new friends have shared their lives with me as well, and I would like to post two poems which were sent to me. The first is by DC area poet DJ Gaskin. She purchased a piece of mine and as we got to know each other through email, she wrote this poem. To read more about DJ please visit her site at http://www.lionesspress.com/. The second is from Jim Curry, who lives in Rome, GA. Jim and I became acquainted during my stay in Rome a couple of months ago. He does not have a web site, but was kind enough to share this poem with me. I thank both of these people for their generosity in sharing their lives with me and allowing me to post their work on this site.

Artist of the Waters

for Lori Gordon

When the rains stopped

crashing and the ocean stopped

ravaging and the tears began

to slow,

only then, she stepped over

the rubble that was her own—

from plates to canvas,

from paints to shoes—stepped

into the rest, and began

to look.

Looking past the waste

of each castaway artifact—family

photo, mantelpiece, the post

of a bed, the leg

of a chair, a book, a comb, a still

life, a salt shaker, a magazine

cover in a language unknown,

a dog collar, a dress, the arm

of a doll—she meant

to see

beyond the tattered and torn and

broken things, to gaze

into the pain

of the loss

of each and the whole

that wove together each quilt

of a life. And in the seeing she began

to heal.



© 2007 DJ Gaskin



The Stream of Life

How wondrous is the stream of life;
She mostly gently flows,
And with ease she takes the varied turns,
As if intuitively she knows.

Some obstacles of nature
She encounters along the way,
But she molds herself around them,
Enfolds them as she may.

But let the mighty rains begin
Creating swell on swell,
And the stream of life from gentle state
Becomes a raging hell.

The result will not be pleasant;
There may be damage from the swell
And a sense that life has betrayed itself,
For all will not seem well.

But when the mighty rains subside,
Just wait, and you will see;
In time, a pleasant, gentle flow
Once more the stream will be.

James L. Curry, Jr.