And who might they have sent,Agnes Kramer-Hamstra, March 2020.
that holy trinity of a jazz trio
improvising with intent,
to carry you from this home to that?
No fluffy cloud, rose-tinted for you
or childish cherubs with useless little wings.
Was it more like ones with their boots on
this muddy March, and with a wheelbarrow
sturdy and sure, but with some padding
for that worn-fragile bony frame of yours?
And that mysterious journey, as they
hauled you over, with the barrow wheel
soft over the softening earth,
as others attended – this side and that side – sang you on your way.
Or, was it more like this: those ones with boots
showed up with their buckets and brushed
the grime away, with wide swaths of their soapy wet brooms,
so that you could finally see clear, see through
to come face to beloved face
that face that lit yours in all those
ways you are?
You just read something for free. How can a small Canadian publication offer quality, award-winning content online with no paywall?
Because of the generosity of readers like you.
Just think about Vincent van Gogh, who only sold one painting in his lifetime. How did he keep going? Because of the support of his brother, Theo. And now over 900 exceptional Vincent van Gogh paintings are famous worldwide.
You can be our Theo.
As you read this, we’re hard at work on new content. Like Vincent, we’re trying to create something unique. Hope-filled, independent journalism feels just as urgent and just as unlikely as van Gogh’s bold brushstrokes. We need readers like you who believe in this work, and who provide us with the resources to do it. Enable us to pursue stories of renewal: