All your Beautiful Thoughts get lost. No. Don’t apologize or fret about it. It’s not your fault. You misplace some like a set of car keys or reading glasses. They were here a minute ago. You absently dismiss others on your way to work because you haven’t a moment to spare. You meant to mention your truly beautiful thoughts to someone sometime. Considered jotting them down. Maybe if you had a pencil when you thought of something beautiful and a tiny pad that fit in your back pocket. Then again. The notion of sharing your absolutely beautiful thoughts seems a bit much, really. Your beautiful thoughts are beautiful to you. But who actually wants to hear them? You catch yourself thinking maybe they’re not beautiful to anyone else but you. So, your beautiful thoughts pass through you. Make the air shimmer around you for a moment. And finally disappear like an extinct animal from a forgotten time.
Except when they don’t.
Out of all the magical places in the world like Stonehenge or Easter Island, the most magical place I know is a tidy lunchroom in the sub level of a particular senior center in Harlem where a certain poetry group meets on Thursday afternoons. All together, there were never a braver band of poets in the land. Their beautiful thoughts don’t get lost behind the cushions of the sofa, swept under the rug during a vigorous spring cleaning or shushed to death by librarians. They’re passed around the table. Shared aloud and celebrated as they should be.
Can you haiku? Why shouldn’t you? We do.
Ocean welcomes summer home
Green sequins glitter
Transformed into a shadow
By the solstice sun