A Pacific Northwest native, I have been writing poetry over 40 years. My poems reflect a woman’s journey through the later years, with recurring themes of loss and renewal.
The poem “Canada Geese” came to me when I read that the government had closed the Canada border due to COVID and I thought – what about all the geese trying to go home?
The poem “All That Dance” honors my daughter, Maygan, who owns a Seattle dance studio by that name. Watching her dancers perform got me thinking about the inherent polarities in the art of dance – the back and forth of it, – and how that reflects what happens in our lives as well.
I have read at many local poetry venues and am a member of Seattle Poets Table. My first book, If the Moon Came Out Only Once a Month, was published in 2012 and my current book, What the Tulips Said, was published this year.
CANADA GEESE
The Canada geese don’t know
the border is closed, don’t realize
that far below frightened people
are frozen in place and cannot move.
They fly north as they always do,
returning to their homes, honking
and flapping in the bright sun,
far above the melting snow.
Some have never made the trip
before but they somehow know
the way, first Ohio then Ontario,
straight ahead, no turning back.
Beneath them spring goes on,
buds swell on branches, daffodils
thrust into bloom, newly awakened
frogs make music in the dark
And people shall go on as well,
beyond the shadow of this time,
reaching out with hearts and hands,
singing from balconies on empty streets,
making our way through the unknown
until we finally arrive back home,
back to the blessed lives we led before,
the familiar ponds, the beloved bays.
ALL THAT DANCE
If there were another word for life
I think it would be dance.
That northern lights tango
of flaring up and dying down.
Taking flight and standing still,
Holding on and letting go.
A rhumba of polarities,
A ballet of yes and no.
Openings and closing,
Plunging in and pulling back.
Now my turn to be the sun,
Now my turn to be the moon.
Dancing on the table
dancing in the dark.
joy and sorrow
waltzing check to cheek.
Tides and seasons have
Their own choreography,
endings and beginnings
chase each other’s tails,
I hold love in my arms
As death taps on my shoulder.
Some people watch their feet
But I close my eyes and lean
Into the music, We only get
one time across the floor.
To read the next Cathy Ross poem – click here
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