I came across this poem a couple of months ago, and the raw authenticity and gorgeous simplicity of the words really touched my heart.
I love the idea of throwing all cares away, not worrying about who may be watching, or what they may be thinking, and just savoring a moment with someone you love.
The words hold so much romance in them yet they are not flowery nor elaborate. For me this is what gives the poem such beauty and soul.
Happy Valentine’s Day All. Enjoy a little love from Gate C22!
Gate C22 – By Ellen Bass
At gate C22 in the Portland airport
a man in a broad-band leather hat kissed
a woman arriving from Orange County.
They kissed and kissed and kissed. Long after
the other passengers clicked the handles of their carry-ons
and wheeled briskly toward short-term parking,
the couple stood there, arms wrapped around each other
like he’d just staggered off the boat at Ellis Island,
like she’d been released at last from ICU, snapped
out of a coma, survived bone cancer, made it down
from Annapurna in only the clothes she was wearing.
Neither of them was young. His beard was gray.
She carried a few extra pounds you could imagine
her saying she had to lose. But they kissed lavish
kisses like the ocean in the early morning,
the way it gathers and swells, sucking
each rock under, swallowing it
again and again. We were all watching–
passengers waiting for the delayed flight
to San Jose, the stewardesses, the pilots,
the aproned woman icing Cinnabons, the man selling
sunglasses. We couldn’t look away. We could
taste the kisses crushed in our mouths.
But the best part was his face. When he drew back
and looked at her, his smile soft with wonder, almost
as though he were a mother still open from giving birth,
as your mother must have looked at you, no matter
what happened after–if she beat you or left you or
you’re lonely now–you once lay there, the vernix
not yet wiped off, and someone gazed at you
as if you were the first sunrise seen from the Earth.
The whole wing of the airport hushed,
all of us trying to slip into that woman’s middle-aged body,
her plaid Bermuda shorts, sleeveless blouse, glasses,
little gold hoop earrings, tilting our heads up.
For the last six weeks I have been participating in a virtual book club through RLBC with seven other women, a few here in Colorado and the rest spread from Nebraska to Kansas to Canada. Each week we would “gather” for a couple of hours via google hangouts video calls.
The six-week journey I took with these amazing women was incredibly eye opening for me on the kind of deep connection that can be fostered when everyone comes to the table with a willingness and open heart, whether we are gathering together virtually or in person.
While my dad isn’t in poor health he isn’t in his optimal health either. I realized I was angry at him for not making a few simple adjustments to his diet and exercise habits that could have a profound impact on his overall health and longevity. I resented the fact that he is such a disciplined and principled man in so many aspects of his life but this one. And I was scared. I was scared about the day when he wouldn’t be around for me. That realization still brings up a lot of emotion for me.
