the first woman i loved

april 15, 1944

donell kay dexel

forth of seven children

a reverend's daughter

glee club member

year book editor

nickname "cricket"

smoked while her husband was off at war

drove a vw bug

eyes big as deer

hair robin brown

cheek bones round as crab apples

wears a green most do not dare to

loves to wear hats

bubble baths with her bible

more stubborn than a mule

cares beyond reason

raised four children which i am the youngest

loves me truly

misunderstands me often

wants more time than i offer

roses are fine but an orchid is preferred

she turns 67 today

an orchid and an afternoon

for the first woman i loved

the art in me

there is something that moves me

i don't  have words to describe

it's not an emotion, or a rhythmic change

my hands don't get clammy, and i don't feel faint

there is a rush of urgency 

i must create the art in me

i use to think you could lose it

it would make me grieve and search for it

my artificial attempts were in vain

the hunger and wide-eyed lust subsided 

it seemed absent from within me

i cannot create the art in me

it did not get an invitation

my life was packed with expectations

deadlines and agendas cascaded my time

suddenly i halted in exhaustion 

sleepless stirrings filled with late hour wonder

new longings for soul oxygen

questions that only i could answer

is that yearning the art in me

suddenly without notice i was searching

i responded to the emergency call 

urgently seeking to find resolve

my hands shaking and legs collapsing

tears filled with doubtful request

pleading, begging, wining like a spoiled child

give me the art in me

silence for days haunted my nights

burdened rocks weighed heavy on my soul

gone, nothing, no answer

wishful thinking confirmed

interrupted melancholy grumblings
a sweet sound of familiar voices

"dad, can you help me paint?"

discovering the art in them

the art in me

be a child

play

barefoot

smile

be a child.

faithful

not me

you

i am faithless

you remain faithful

you are my faith

you help me believe in you

faithful

slippery rock

over a hundred years ago

people discovered a magical place

an opening between dense forest

where wild flowers bloom

sand stone slides down slopes

sun warms the earth 

moss grows between soil and stone

deer graze unadulterated by man

sifting through trees the gap appears

man named,

"slippery rock"

just two days ago

my family and i came upon a magical place

an opening between dense forest

where wild flowers bloom

sand stone slides down slopes

sun warms the earth 

moss grows between soil and stone

deer graze unadulterated by man

sifting through trees the gap appears

man named,

"slippery rock"

moments ago

i recaptured a magical place

my daughters scurried up sand stone

imagination more real than reality

laying against slopes my back was warmed

deer share their space with us

together my wife and i stare at nature

alive in us

our children named it,

"home"

be brave

the corn grows over six feet tall

i am small amongst the dense rows

labyrinth paths wined their way

be brave

fog billows from the ocean neighbor

cliffs buffer their approach

steading my step i move forward

be brave

crows dart into the sky

startled by my presence

my arms spread wide to symbol kindred

be brave

cool air sifts through

shivers spread head to toe

big strides for open space

be brave

i stand 4 feet tall

the corn does not scare me

the fog is my blanket

the crows my compass

i am phoenix

brave

where i walk

 trees bow 

branches wave

leafs shake

where i walk

ferns shelter

acacias bloom

nettles flourish

where i walk

birds sing

squirrels chatter

slugs survive

where i walk

humans hush

creatures speak

forests live

where i walk