Shelter in Place

My latest work - sneak preview. Peter is a published poet encouraged me over time to write poetry. I did so in my teens but never since. The following is something we worked on together. It is my poem made better by peter who did a brilliant job injecting his touch for words.

Sheltering in Place

• ? 2020 by David W. Mariani and Peter Coe Verbica

The world herself has grown so quiet,

as if she’s run out of things to say.

See her stretching naked at the open window,

sheltering in place for days.

Now that the noise of things has died down,

she emerges:

shy, powerful, like a lioness

from out of her garden’s brush and bramble.

Gold from the sun forms a halo

over her head and shoulders.

Light lays like a lover’s hands 

in the soft strands of her hair.

The world herself has grown so quiet.

Hidden are her bees, her hope,

her honey.

Sometimes the best we can do

is take the hat off our head

and bow in silence:

like an old Pope standing in front

of a parish when a young child leaves too early.

For life brings us both the sensible

and the senseless.

But when the fish followed her

into the canals of Venice,

and boar searched for her voice 

in the empty city streets,

I realized she was trying to tell us

how to conquer

isolation, panic and fear,

loneliness, sickness and death --

if only we would listen.

I guess we had to stop for a moment,

so that we could hear

the breath of the world:

it was what we had been waiting for,

but didn’t know it:

she was asking us to calm, 

to fly above the lakes and streams 

the way children do in their dreams:

allow our eyes to usher in the water;

our ears to hear a harbor’s lull and hush.

The world is in suspense.

Take a modest fishing boat with me

to a small island off of the coast of Croatia.

Our ancestors are waiting for us,

dotting the rocks and dock,

beckoning with colored scarves and smiles,

and baskets of wine and bread.

I will promise you this:

In solemn serenity we can see again;

Through clear skies we see again;

In the quiet we can hear again.

The fishmonger and his children’s laughter

as they tie knots in their nets:

an epiphany will strike you in the solar plexus.

You realize that you 

suddenly understand the words of birds.

Somehow the past and future will once again

become the present:

Front lawn parties abound.

Neighbors chat with happy sounds.

Some neighbors meeting for the first time,

pour drinks with a twist of rhyme. 

Helping hands from Ireland to the Puget Sound,

Goodwill for our fellow man abounds.

The world is seeing a better place; 

Those less fortunate are given a helping hand.

Worldwide we see our neighbors in a different way.

The sick, the weary, the homeless, 

Are all our brothers young and old.

We are asking different question in our soul.

….how we can help as we are one in the fold.

This little virus has given humanity a reminder,

awesome are the minuscule and unseen things.

It taught us that we really are not in control

of the gears of God.

It taught us what really matters is love.

We are asking different questions, it be told,

Rather than what do I get, we are asking, “How can I help?”

We have been given a rebirth of our soul.

With sincere voices and careful choices.

For though the earth has grown so quiet,

today gives resuscitation

and brings new life into our hearts.

The birds are singing again.

Clouds are clearing.

For though the earth has grown so quiet,

there is a murmur and a rumbling:

Spring is coming.

The verdant smell overwhelms,

like water on chips of cedar.

For though the world herself has grown so quiet,

soon, she will invite us to

leave our sheltering in place,

In a new World where the devil has no place.

What a special day,

to open our souls and weep for joy. 

To dance in place. To sing and soar.

Sheltering in Place

? 2020 by David W. Mariani and Peter Coe Verbica

The world herself has grown so quiet,

as if she’s run out of things to say.

See her stretching naked at the open window,

sheltering in place for days.

Now that the noise of things has died down,

she emerges:

shy, powerful, like a lioness

from out of her garden’s brush and bramble.

Gold from the sun forms a halo

over her head and shoulders.

Light lays like a lover’s hands 

in the soft strands of her hair.

The world herself has grown so quiet.

Hidden are her bees, her hope,

her honey.

Sometimes the best we can do

is take the hat off our head

and bow in silence:

like an old Pope standing in front

of a parish when a young child leaves too early.

For life brings us both the sensible

and the senseless.

But when the fish followed her

into the canals of Venice,

and boar searched for her voice 

in the empty city streets,

I realized she was trying to tell us

how to conquer

isolation, panic and fear,

loneliness, sickness and death --

if only we would listen.

I guess we had to stop for a moment,

so that we could hear

the breath of the world:

it was what we had been waiting for,

but didn’t know it:

she was asking us to calm, 

to fly above the lakes and streams 

the way children do in their dreams:

allow our eyes to usher in the water;

our ears to hear a harbor’s lull and hush.

The world is in suspense.

Take a modest fishing boat with me

to a small island off of the coast of Croatia.

Our ancestors are waiting for us,

dotting the rocks and dock,

beckoning with colored scarves and smiles,

and baskets of wine and bread.

I will promise you this:

In solemn serenity we can see again;

Through clear skies we see again;

In the quiet we can hear again.

The fishmonger and his children’s laughter

as they tie knots in their nets:

an epiphany will strike you in the solar plexus.

You realize that you 

suddenly understand the words of birds.

Somehow the past and future will once again

become the present:

Front lawn parties abound.

Neighbors chat with happy sounds.

Some neighbors meeting for the first time,

pour drinks with a twist of rhyme. 

Helping hands from Ireland to the Puget Sound,

Goodwill for our fellow man abounds.

The world is seeing a better place; 

Those less fortunate are given a helping hand.

Worldwide we see our neighbors in a different way.

The sick, the weary, the homeless, 

Are all our brothers young and old.

We are asking different question in our soul.

….how we can help as we are one in the fold.

This little virus has given humanity a reminder,

awesome are the minuscule and unseen things.

It taught us that we really are not in control

of the gears of God.

It taught us what really matters is love.

We are asking different questions, it be told,

Rather than what do I get, we are asking, “How can I help?”

We have been given a rebirth of our soul.

With sincere voices and careful choices.

For though the earth has grown so quiet,

today gives resuscitation

and brings new life into our hearts.

The birds are singing again.

Clouds are clearing.

For though the earth has grown so quiet,

there is a murmur and a rumbling:

Spring is coming.

The verdant smell overwhelms,

like water on chips of cedar.

For though the world herself has grown so quiet,

soon, she will invite us to

leave our sheltering in place,

In a new World where the devil has no place.

What a special day,

to open our souls and weep for joy. 

To dance in place. To sing and soar.