Issue Four - June 2002

Sudden Stroke

By Brooks

had I known yesterday
how today
I would long for any part of any word
I would have sung three hosannas
after each syllable

had I known I would never again hear
from you
words that told
of your inner world
I would have memorized for us both
our private language of gestures

had I known the pattern of our dance
was so directed by words
I would have etched
our language
onto a wall of names
where we could have pointed to meaning

had I known
I would have to translate
the poetry in your eyes
into my own words
I would have long ago looked more deeply

had I known this could happen
to you who used words with Zen elegance
the map that led me to my own words
might have been lost

had I remembered
how quickly change takes its stance
I might have bargained with some god
stressing your goodness and gifts
offering to give up my own words
for yours

©2002 Brooks

Brooks arrived on the last ferry to Lopez Island September 11, 2001. Recently she made another cross-country move, this time to North Carolina. She writes, makes art, does ocean stuff, teaches classes and workshops. She also walks on beaches and among tall trees, collects bones and rocks, and laughs a lot.

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