It Was Always Me

Today I started a month-long writing workshop with my favorite poet, Andrea Gibson. It was a fascinating and inspiring class. I learned a lot about the art of poetry, and even more about myself.

We were given 3 prompts, and only 5 minutes to write for each one.

5 minutes, not to write our hearts out, but to write them in.

The first prompt grabbed me: “What if you are the love of your life?”

Here’s my 5-minute draft:

What if I’m it?
What if, at the end of a long day of work
And pouring out my heart
I get to come home to me?
What if I get to ring my own doorbell
As I anxiously wait 1-2-3 seconds on the other side of the door
Because I don’t want to seem too eager?
What if I show up on my own front porch
With a dozen yellow roses in hand
And butterflies in my stomach
My stomach in my throat as I open the door
Of my own heart
And wrap my arms around me?
What if this is what love feels like?
What if this is what it means to come home to me?
What if it was always me?

What if, one day, I’m old and gray
Holding my own wrinkled hand
And listening to the story of how we met?
I, on the porch, trying to catch the breath that fled
The moment I saw me standing in the doorway

Nice to meet you, I say
Welcome home
I left the porch light on for me