All but unnoticeable if not for that
simmering sense of potential.
Like an awkward teenage girl-
all elbows and promise.
When I'm not in the studio, I'm usually in the garden.
Dig and pull. Prune. Water.
Spread, spray and do it again.
The garden has given me tomatoes on my plate,
flowers on the bureau and scratches on my shins.
It has given me callouses. Bruises.
Great joy and pride. Appreciation.
It has given me an outlook inward.
Under the Rose Glow Barberry is a small brown Mantis.
I've found her on the Wisteria
climbing the front porch railings as well.
I know it's always her as she's missing a leg.
Her prayer is single-stemmed,
without two limbs to press together.
She climbs and prays anyway.
I think there is something lovely in the whole
which has been broken.
A slight ascension of the spirit,
which takes with it a clearer perspective.
A higher truth.
It is a strange grace
that surrounds the awkward stance of a Mantis.
Deceiving are the seemingly inconvenient limbs
and the disproportionate body that yield such magical movements.
Strange grace carries it onward.
And it is a strange grace that envelopes me
when I feel I might keel over, the imbalance too much.
For there are no trumpets, no lights, no angels' wings to beat the air.
Rather it's a torn ligament,
an unexpected wash of bills . . .
that topple me to the floor.
And it's not until I'm sitting there,
still for a moment . . . resting . . .
that I see it's exactly where I need to be.
Strange grace brought me to my knees.
Or my ass . . .
depending on how how irreverently you choose to phrase it.
From that awkward place, I begin anew.
Shaky steps that surely will take me forward.
These earrings are built to embody boldness and ungainly grace.
An interpretive take on both unordinary beauty
and the surprise blessings that are so often wrapped
in the seemingly worst of circumstances.
Climb and pray anyway.