Shoulder Honey

Painting copyright Corrie Scott barbados art council.com



I happened to run across this poem i wrote to my wife when she was pregnant. hope you enjoy...


Shoulder honey


When it is, is when we’ll be there
When it was, is the place where we’ll land

What awaits me is as familiar as my childhood
All blurs and screens of smoky memoirs pasted together scrapbook style
Lost in that pile of Polaroid past, is a youth so firmly rooted, the gardeners of the lord’s harvest had to use both hands to unearth it
If I could spread my seeds back to that fertile earth and hope once again to bear fruit
so sweetly buttered, I’d won half the war for the dreams of our future

Don’t think you don’t hold keys as vital as water to the next rising sun
Motherhood is a future builder as sweet as shoulder honey
That elixir that puts restless children to bed on dream sleepy highway 9, right beneath the silver lined cloud
The smooth run down on the palate that heals wounds on young ones so smoothly, the scars can only be seen in a not so memorable past
Shoulder honey that calms the savage mans constant need for intimate intricacies of the illuminated thigh

You are so powerful honey
The type of power futures daydream about building foundations on
Picket fences, financial stability, and do-for-self business structure
All those futures we planned 5 years ago, but could never seem to catch up to
We had to run light-years and fight night tears to grapple the left leg of this future
It’s a slippery one, but it’s ours and no one else’s
We now know the course of this future and stay on the true straight and narrow for the sake of the reward
Not the one at the end of the path, but the blessings we receive along the way

If ever we misstep this dance to future
Take moments in precious silence
And just look over your shoulder honey