It's Time to Celebrate Vulnerability

Trust, transparency, and authenticity are all key components of successful, engaging communications. But the challenges brought on by COVID-19 have uncovered a rising star, often overlooked by the brighter giants: vulnerability.

I wouldn't be a very trustworthy communicator if I didn't take my own advice. So, in the spirit of being vulnerable, I'm sharing a handful of my latest poems with you, stranger.

Poetry has always been an escape for me. And something I do out of necessity, with passion and joy. I write poems to process my thoughts, feelings, and observations about the world around me. For me, poetry offers a window into our humanity - the raw, airy, vulnerable bits. My hope is that you find pieces of yourself in these poems, and they help you better connect and communicate with others about your hopes, fears and dreams. We are united in the shared experience of being human. P.S. - Growing up, I always felt self-conscious of the bump on the bridge of my nose. I hated my profile, and would have never posed for a full-on profile shot (like the one in this article's thumbnail). It's past time to embrace the bumps that make us unique and tell the story of what it means to be ourselves.

Pandemic Poems

_____

Pre-pandemic

_____

2/5/20

Smiling into nothing,

I watch the water rush over my

limbs like lodged logs in white water.

The air feels eternal -

I could smudge the sky with my bare

fingers and poke out the pudding eyes of

the stars.

Maybe this hot tub is making me crazy;

maybe this moment is a gift from above.

_____

Early pandemic

_____

3/23/20

And honest to goodness

tonight

I'll fling my war-torn body to reach

the slight, starry crevice to heaven to

touch a fleeting piece of the divine.

We're all suffocating inside our pandemic

pajamas

till the after work air chills us to life.

One time,

my jacket catching my sweater

was your footsteps,

and I looked back to re-learn

I was alone.

_____

Mid-pandemic _____ 5/25/20

A salt pond breeze,

surfs through her hair

and lifts locks

like a drunk puppeteer.

_____

Mid-late pandemic

_____

08/7/20

when it gets too hot

for everyone else,

it's just right for you,

you said -

but

you also said that

I could break,

if left to burn too hot.

though you are tempered like glass

you must cool to remain yourself,

in tact. Anneal.

Don't let the blaze of the world consume you.

As you whispered anneal,

in a far-off Portuguese place

like a tower in the palace of my heart

my soul laughed, I am the fire.

_____

08/15/20

P.S. to remember:

-Biting into a [mango-filled] bao bun

(the name of the sweetness a parenthetical, just beyond my tongue.)

-The cat's head descending softly to the blanket,

a foot fanning out its toe beans, like a sprawling palm frond.

_____

08/16/20

Seize the day

on Bora Bora sands.

From home I'm

walking monotony

away on a looping track.

Is it over?

Are we there yet?

Has the day been slain?

_____

While things seem impossible now, and we appear to be in it for the long haul with coronavirus raging this fall, we can begin to hope by sharing our fears today. Connecting with one another, being vulnerable, and supporting attempts like we celebrate success will ultimately spread some sunshine into the dark room of these covid days.

...I do remember the drowning years

When everyone else seemed a full-sailed ship and I was underwater with loss – broken. From which I got up, dried off,

and lived all this life that came after

-Josh Lefkowitz