“Early” by Susan Roney-O’Brien
Even if you have never awakened
to find the room moon-suffused,
the odd shoe casting blue shadow,
windowpanes gridding the rug
in elongated mosaics, even if that
has not yet happened, and when,
on the rare chance, it does,
slide your legs from under covers,
pause, wait for your eyes to adjust
before you stand. Smooth the sheet.
Pull blankets over. Pat pillows down.
Listen. Now go. Something has called.
What does my writing mean to me: I write to understand, to celebrate, to have words make the dream real. I write to bring you in, to my open arms, through my skin, to stand unfettered with you.
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Susan Roney-O’Brien Artist Statement:
I am a creature of earth and water and sky. The flame that burns heart-close grows into words. Words manifest themselves in poems that unfurl their wings, dry strong and bright, fly. On my small farm, bees kept me. I followed their dance among apple, peach, pear and cherry each spring. I listened to their voices, inhaled the gift of honey rising from their hives. Circles dance within circles– bud births flower, flower blossoms into fruit, bulbs and rhizomes push through earth and rain comes, each drop holding a speck of dust. I am one raindrop. Bees know me.
I write to understand, to celebrate, to have words make the dream real. I write to bring you in, to my open arms, through my skin, to stand unfettered with you. Poetry is song. I write to feel the vibrations words emit, to learn the chords, the notes, the cadences that will keep me alive. Poetry opens and opens again and again and welcomes us inside.
