The Moya View

Getting Gentler

I’m gentle with the spaces 
I know and walk through. 

Every door knobs has fingerprints. 
The dust and air is full of ghosts,

I make them free not by removing them but 
tidying them up into their own wandering space,

letting them tell their stories so I can joyously
tell mine in the right place, time and words.  

I free myself to the opportunity they provide me.
I am loyal to them and they to me.  

The other day I heard my mother speak to 
me in a frame of film, a pixel flashing by. 

”I love it.  Love, love, love it!”, she said 
to everything she touched and adored.  

My wife was wondering why I was just 
sitting there smiling and writing.  

“I don’t care. I love it! I love it, too!” I replied 
to the life that created me and lives I will create.

I have done the work of gathering, curating, loving.
I am close, closer to finally  getting it right!

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JONATHAN MOYA

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Comments

4 responses to “Getting Gentler”

  1. Carolineinthenight Avatar
    Carolineinthenight

    This is wonderful.

  2. Jane Pryce Avatar
    Jane Pryce

    Jonathan, this poem brings tears to my eyes. My Grandmother, whom I knew only as Mummy for my first fourteen years was like that, except she could never say those words, “I love it.” or I love you. Chosen, is my memoir about those years.

  3. JONATHAN MOYA Avatar
    JONATHAN MOYA

    Thanks.

  4. JONATHAN MOYA Avatar
    JONATHAN MOYA

    Thanks for the great comment.

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