First day of spring and you

On the first day of spring

two decades and 4 years ago

I remember…

I remember you

walking towards me 

looking dashing in your beige barong

smiling and saying, “Hello, I believe

we’ve met earlier…”

Yes, I remember your voice

strong but gentle, 

commanding attention, 

but allowing spaces of silence 

to listen with full attention —

Yes, I remember your eyes,

the color of the sea, deep green, 

shining with amusement 

quietly taking in my words 

spoken in response to your revelation

that you were not just a minister

you were a lawyer, too.

Yes, I remember my unfiltered,

unapologetic reply –

that night at the Luce Library,

“I don’t like lawyers much!”

You just stood there gazing at me

and letting me chatter on 

like a defense attorney making her case

why you should walk away now 

while you can.

But you didn’t. 

You stayed 

and listened …

and at the end of my lengthy opening statement, 

we both knew, 

you had won 

the most important case 

in your life, 

you had won 

my heart.

  • Carla Romarate-Knipel

Pause for Poetry – Café Scribblings

“Rhetorical”

Can one day
change the rest of my life?
Can three words
bring me to a place I’ve never been?
Can “hello” echo forever
and never say good-bye?

Can you be gone but still stay –
… in my heart,
… my memories,
till the end of my days?
Can the sound of your voice
linger …
in whispers of sweet-somethings,
secret words
only we know?

Can I move forward –
with the rest of my life
not leaving you behind?
Can I open my heart
to new possibilities …
trusting God and you
are always
with me?

  • Carla Romarate-Knipel
    10.12.24

The Gift of Poetry

“Poetry provides us the history of the human heart.” This is what American Poet laureate Billy Collins said in the introductory session of his master class on poetry online that I had attended. This was way back in July, five months since the Covid-19 pandemic began. During those long days of staying at home, I began to read and write poetry more than I ever had since I started appreciating it as a child. For sure I am not a professional poet. I was not a literature major in college nor do I have an MFA in poetry. What I do have is an insatiable curiosity and appreciation for the gift of poetry. I am very grateful for all those in the past who have bared their hearts using ink and paper to give us a glimpse of the architecture of a human soul. There were instances when I was baffled and moments that I was profoundly moved by these heart historians. But in times of uncertainty, reading a poem, has given me some stability, something to hold on to while the storm rages on. In my blog I humbly share some of my attempts to write a history of my own heart, grateful for the gift of poetry and those who generously bestowed them to us. May the Master Poet who has breathed life into us and created this world with poetic beauty and grandeur, inspire us with the joy of receiving this gift!