I slept in this morning (which is a gift in itself). I was slow to comprehend the simultaneous occurrence of waking and daylight; my thoughts were still sedate and soupy. As my attention woke, I noticed two mourning doves resting on the snowy railing outside my bedroom window. Their eyes were closed, heads facing opposite directions, quietly resting in the pink of the morning sky.
This novel sight, in my sleepy morning brain, provoked a crystal clear memory. And all at once my head was filled with a sing-songy poem that I wrote when I was in high school. Without the benefit of a full dose of caffeine, I’ve decided that this was a sign and that it would be a great idea to share it.
So without further consideration, I sheepishly present, “The Mourning Doves”, by the 17 years young, aspiring writer, Alex Keany, circa 1985.
The Mourning Doves In days of new when knights are few two dovelets did appear. One young dove sings as she stretches her wings and then she sheds a tear. She mourns of us and the lack of trust we have for one another. Why can't we love just as the dove love our earthly brothers?
It so embarrassing to read, at first. But, I really can remember how big everything felt back then. Walking down a hall to class, lined with a hundred humans at lockers, some clustered in conversation, some alone -that was work. To feel and understand and manage all that was always streaming live inside of me was a lot. I’ve got a lot of love for that kid and for all of us who ever had to work hard to make meaning out of our big feelings.
If you have a high school poem that your carry with you – I’d love to read it, if you’d want to share it.