The magic of poetry is that it can be very personal yet at the same time, it can be utterly universal. I suppose that could be the very job description of a poet - as if there was such thing as a job description for a poet. Maybe there is? I don’t know.
But anyway, if I had to write a poet’s job description, it would be “has the ability to turn personal thoughts, feelings, visions and memories into words that resonate with universal accessibility.”
So why am I blogging about poetry today? Because this poem is just perfect for today, the day after Thanksgiving. A day that could really go one of two ways, you know? It could be a day of welcome quiet, an exhale from the busyness of the days that preceded the holiday, or it could be a day of crazy. “Doorbuster Savings!”, need I say more?
That’s the universal appeal of this poem.
As for the personal, well, I have sat in this chair. And not just “this chair” in a figurative sense, but THIS EXACT rocking chair.
See, the poet who wrote this poem is my friend, someone whose path crossed with mine at the fabled Hudson Valley farmhouse I wrote about several times earlier in the year. The same farmhouse where my daughter stayed for months, and where I visited, leaving the hustle and bustle of my own life far behind for days at a time.
It’s my pleasure today to share with you the poem “A Case for the Rocking Chair” by Danielle Gasparro. I hope you find the same glimmer of beauty in it as I do, because one thing is for certain, the world would probably be a much better place with more rocking chairs in it.
A Case for the Rocking Chair By Danielle Gasparro
Snow is falling.
In a trance, I sit, watching the angelside of the wideworldsky give itself to the now of down.
And in this moment, from this ticktocked farmhouse crib, the staircase of my mind leads to disbelief that someone,
somewhere,
is running late.
This poem is published here with permission of the author; “A Case for the Rocking Chair” originally appeared in the November 1, 2015 edition of “Chronogram.”