Profession

(a poem I wrote for my Daughter Mimi and her husband Tim on their wedding day--which I had the joy and wonder to preform in NYC)

 

PROFESSION

 

Not just an occupation,

though that is the usual definition.

Oh, no, more than that, much more.

 

“Profession” as a verb, not a noun,

is wondrous indeed.

To avow, to declare, to promise--

“profession” leads into all sorts

of nonsense and wonderment and joy.

 

To actually 'say so' about

what your lives will be and consist of

and contain.

 

To 'profess' opens up the possibility

of a future you speak into being.

A future that wouldn't have happened

otherwise, until you spoke it.

 

Few people in the world

make such a 'profession'--

speak a future and a life

into being like that.

 

And today you two do.

 

Astonishing, memorable, inspiring,

full of being and hope and wonderment.

Like that.

Thank you for going to the edge

of what you can know and see

and then stepping off.

 

And I know, as you step off into what

is not known, not knowable,

you will be caught by loving arms

or learn how to fly.

 

 

Staying with Bern

 This is a poem I wrote for her years ago.

 YOU ARE MY SPRING

 

Walking on the Canal today, Bela and I

were serenaded by dozens of birds.

 

Bela stopped twice to cock his head and listen.

I could not escape their songs.

My soul leaned toward Spring.

 

Perhaps they are back too soon

and will freeze in the February night.

But they were there this morning,

trying out their voices,

making music that sounded like April,

when we both were born.

 

Some winters, here in the Northeast,

test the will and Hope, itself.

Others, like this one,

tease us with their mildness.

Either way—Winter Comes.

 

And it is the Spring I lean toward, always,

no matter which winter rolls in.

 

Today, walking with a Puli dog,

listening to the misplaced choruses of birds,

I realized that I lean toward you

the way I lean toward Spring.

 

In all the Winter-times of my life,

I lean toward you.

You are my Spring,

my Hope, my Love.

 

 

 

Bern

Her full name is Bernadine Pisano--no middle name.

I met her when I was a senior in high school and she was a freshman. We were in Latin class together.

Amo, Amas, Amat.

From that time on we were a couple. We've known each other for 55 years and have been married for 50 of those.

She is not just 'the love of my life', she is, in many ways--My Life.

We share two children and four granddaughters and more memories (bad and good) than most couples have.

She does most everything around our home. She won't let me near a vacuum cleaner or a lawn mower. All I'm in charge of is trash and recycling.

We do take turns cooking dinner and are on our own for any other meals or snacks.

I do fill the dishwasher every other day and sometimes empty it when it is done.

I wash my own clothes and towels but she washes everything else.

I'm not handy at all, so she does minor repairs.

I've come to trust her, over the years in most every aspect of our shared life.

She asked me to de-clutter my office--a eight by 12 space at the top of our back stairs.

I thought she was being silly--I didn't need to de-clutter!

I filled our entire Cheshire Garbage Can with stuff I threw away.

Bern knows best.

Always has.

Always will.

I love her beyond words, with my whole being....

 

I won't be writing much this week

 I won't be writing much this week.

I'm so focused on the election I can't sit and write.

I'll find some old stuff to send along, o.k."?

Like this--

                   MAKING THINGS

 

Most of the best things require

       only a few ingredients.

 

Flour, water, yeast, a pinch of salt

      (a pinch of sugar too, I’d say) and time:

       kneading , rising, kneading, rising, kneading,

       baking—you’ve got bread.

 

Grape juice, sugar, yeast (again) and more time…

        there’s the wine.

 

A simple reed, plucked from the marsh,

        a sharp knife and breath makes music.

 

Paper, thin wood, some string, a tail and patience

        makes a kite and flight….

 

Then there is this—what you have made,

        perhaps not knowing….

          The Patience you needed to deal with me!

                    The Commitment and Skill you brought to the mix.

                     The Hope and Trust to make it

                               Rise

               Ferment

               Sing

                               Fly.

            And dollop after dollop of Great Good Humor—

              that most of all.

few ingredients, but enough and more,

to make my life here joyous, wondrous, profound, incredible, magic

                      and so much fun….so much fun….

 

And I thank you for the feast of life, the song and the flight.

 

jgb/April 29, 2010