One of the very first zoom meetings I participated in during the summer of 2020 was a writing group with my old friends and teacher from my embodiment studies time at goddard college. The writing prompt was a line from a Joy Harjo poem — (First we have to cleanse with sage).
This line inspired a poem within me about thresholds. They are the liminal space where magic happens—especially when we are confronted with the unknown.
I try to remember that there is always the threshold first
There is before and after
That’s what we talk about most days
Chatter about, really
Fill the room with so much chatter about before and after
That we forget about the doorway, the trellis, the wisteria
Dangling in rich purple, gentle lavender, white and the
Mossy green of a new pea shoot
We forget about the moment between behind and ahead
Above and below, the moment we pause in the middle
And bathe in light rain, in sunlight, in flickers of hope and
Yes, yes, yes
Cleansing in sage is the heart’s way of replacing no, no, no
With yes, yes, yes…
We forget about the doorway, the trellis dripping in wisteria
Because it only ever arrives in a whisper
A soft and gentle hand reaching to pull back the hair covering my ears,
Tickling my neck,
Reminding me that through is only possible once
I’ve stood still and a laughed with her for a moment
Before continuing on…