“Here I Go” by Elizabeth Hlookoff
The painting is titled “Here I Go” and the poem, “Fighting the Wind”. Add to these, two of my favorite quips … (1) Fate whispers to the warrior, “you cannot withstand the storm” & the warrior whispers back, “I AM the storm.” And (2) Be the kind of woman that when her feet hit the floor each morning the devil says “Oh Crap! She’s up again!”
Fighting the Wind
by Teresa Breeden
The trick is not to.
Not to struggle, thrusting
the anvil of your
body against the
gale, not to compete, but to
sway and bend, threading
the edge of the air,
welcoming dishevelment.
Who is in charge of
corralling the squall
into meager breezes, these
air conditioned spaces?
Who is bold enough
to slam open the windows
let the shouting in?
You want to be brave.
But you yearn also to curl
beneath the blanket
of wind, a small fold,
your breath a small sigh beneath
the world’s loud exhale
and also
to be the window
it shoves into and through, a
portal for the sky.
The wind reminds you
of what you can be, tousled
dismantled,
a being
that can continually
be remade.
Feel free to stop reading now. That’s this week’s words in a nutshell.
Other than wishing I could wash the Arkansas governor’s mouth out with soap (my mother’s favorite remedy for speaking lies or bad words) for defining Black History as a subversive lie that She will not allow to be perpetuated in Her state’s school curriculum (you can read her words here), I really have little to say about the events of this week.
I have tired myself out slamming open the windows & letting the shouting in. The world is on fire, El Rio Grande is laced with razor wire, and heroes are assassinated while criminals make a circus of “surrendering” themselves. My heart continues to beat even as yet another old friend’s has stopped. So, this week I’m resting.
Soon I will uncurl from beneath the blanket of wind and weave myself into the late summer breeze that we’ve been blessed with here in the Pacific Northwest. And then Here I Go … tousled, dismantled and ready to be remade again, I will be laying the groundwork for changes to my website and my writing habits as I focus on the essays that have grown out of this year’s “inspirations,” and my upcoming chapbook, Tributaries, poems inspired by other poems.
Until next time, Beloved Rascals, take care of your precious selves and I will do the same. Do remember to sing and dance a little every day, pay attention to the birds, smile at strangers and if you get a chance … talk to them!
Rest, friend. You deserve it,
❤️
Thank You!