“the wish,” “imperatives at the lake,” and “sister song”

“the wish,” “imperatives at the lake,” and “sister song”

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Photo by Mohamed Fsili on Unsplash

the wish

after all this busying of body, resisting rest

like a toddler hurling her blanket through the night,

after all these efforts manifesting goals, dreading

rejection, willing perfection like a cheerleader

campaigning for homecoming queen, after all this wishing,

and scheming, and thinking, and striving,

the doing, and doing, and driving, and driving,

you press your boot to the brake in the red light’s

glow. you look up at the sky blushing clouds

of dusk. and your eyes catch a starling, swooping

from the power line to a tuft of weeds broken free

from the concrete. in this stillness of rush hour traffic,

the north star of your heart burns a hole

                      in your thoughts.             you finally feel

the wish for now.                                    the wish to be

                      nothing but dandelion root and iridescent

                      wings, the wish to be nothing

                                         but being loved and loving.

imperatives at the lake

let’s imagine

we are mermaids

diving in water where ripples

make imperfect mirrors for

light’s possibilities.

let’s imagine

we are birds

swooping through scarlet

clouds of clear

morning promise.

let’s imagine

we are sailors

raising goblets of wine

to the wise

western winds.

let’s imagine

we are sea fairies

sipping tea in a magical

garden, laughing

with undying delight.

sister song

for Amy on her 40th birthday

persimmon scented, jewel

tone laugh. fire to my air

and incessantly singing.

god-given playmate in woods

of white oak with evergreen eyes

unafraid of the dark. keeper of

secrets with ice in her stare,

flickering knowing in heat

of the flame. glow of hearth. heart

of trees. wide open wings,

blue heron forgiveness. rhythm

of river and old-time devotion,

earth to my water. salt on

the melon. the plate piled high

with ice-cream and pie. warming,

savoring. nourishing. nourishing.

mother of lullabies, tenacity,

truth with baskets and bowls

of ripening fruit. the tender

middle of the honeyed fig.

extravagance of summer.

scarlet of fall. rooted and

giving and vibrating songs of

roses and oceans of memories

unending. alive to my life

since the beginning. listening,

listen. the song

keeps gleaming.

About the Author

Claire Coenen

Claire Coenen, LMSW, is a writer and teacher living in Nashville, Tennessee. After many years of graduate school and working as a psychotherapist, Claire now devotes her time to writing and to teaching the practices that nourish her most: collage, yoga, and expressive writing. Throughout her life, Claire has experienced the creative process as a path toward healing, peace, and wonder. Her work has appeared in several publications including The Banyan Review, Poetry Breakfast, and Salvation South. Her first book of poems, The Beautiful Keeps Breathing (Kelsay Books), was published in June 2024.