It did not rain today like the weathermen predicted.
At least not enough to be a “light shower,”
yet each drop felt like the pinprick of a kiss on my skin –
a million little kisses from the sky
to let me know that she was misty eyed too.
God’s Gift 2.0
The sun felt different to me now.
Most days I hate the heat-
it feels like a passive assault from the sun,
but this morning
(and many to come, so it turns out)
I was able to appreciate the warmth
and sticky air on my skin.
It was the closest thing to a hug that I felt in a long time.
I imagined the sun’s rays were fingers,
reaching down from outer space to caress my face.
The dense air, a weighted blanket draping over me.
What does it mean,
to find solace in the most impersonal aspects of nature?
(Surely, the sun shines on everyone, right?)
I am convinced that the night
can love me better than humans do
sometimes I imagine
that I can bring the stars down to earth
that I can let them come alive
and die again on my fingertips.
I imagine that my secrets can die there too
the second I speak them aloud they’ll become futile
they’ll turn to stardust and scatter in the night gale
the shadows can wrap around me like a quilt
and I can find solace in the darkness and stillness.
Truth be told, I’d paint the whole sky black if I could
I’d claim the moon as my crown
and roam the Earth through the dark forever
if it meant that I could find a home in the quiet.
if it meant that I might glow amongst it all.
I am a morning person now
I wake up before the sun
open up all the blinds and curtains wide
and wait for the light to pour in
for the sky to cast ribbons
of lilac and amber
as if the honeyed brilliance is a gift
from God Himself
a reward for enduring the horrors of the night
Tomorrow morning I’ll rise even sooner
to bid the moon farewell
and drink in the crisp air
scent the dewed blades of grass beneath me
I’ll sit in the quiet without fear
for how can I have wasted a day
that has not even begun?
tomorrow I’ll listen closely
as the whole town awakes
I’ll let God sing to me
through the birds and the breeze
maybe I’ll join Him this time
There is a different type of peace, I suppose
in existing in spaces that feel like a secret.
These four poems by Catherine Clark were written over the span of three years. They are a chronological exploration into how her relationship with nature has changed at different points in her life. Catherine is a 2023 Biomedical Engineering major in the Honors College. In the month of November and continuing into December, 186 South College is posting creative work from guest writers in the Honors College as a celebration of National Novel Writing Month. If you or someone you know in the Honors College would like to share their work as a guest writer like Catherine, we are still accepting submissions at this link:
- TBT: “Reflection Time” by Avery Beer - May 16, 2023
- TBT: “A Little Love for the Library” by Erin Jackson - May 11, 2023
- “The Honors Capstone” by Felicia Seybold - May 4, 2023