Of an April scene at Green-Wood Cemetery

Ashley Mabbitt

after Danusha Lameris Nothing wants to disappoint. Daffodils are not indifferent to the sway of their yellow half-notes, playing in time with a nearby forsythia’s sharp banner of bright sound as a cardinal scratch-pecks a zig-zag over soil and dried leaves, then lifts itself to settle on a brown branch’s perch. It is not logical to presume an early sping flower that listens out for its cue, along with a chorus of others, eleven months of the year, senses the nature of its setting, or the fresh suffering that walks the sidewalks bordering its bed each morning and afternoon. And yet, nothing wants to disappoint. Wants the song it practices in silence, beneath the ground, to go unheard, when, at last, it bursts forth onto the stage.

Untitled

Bernie Werner

I arise unclose my eyes From the grave saved To survive alive My death defying breath Taking life for a wife And beauty our only child.

concentric

Camille Marlow

misty evening, a heavy setting sun once a horizon ruining, now a settling monument giving way to the clamour of dewey beginnings. revealed in midst, and not without mourning we then, are moving in unity, to some communal edifice, perhaps even a greater reprieve. you there, needing me i'm waiting, needing you... even the most humble waves undulating, a proximate sensation then out of sight: ripples of shared giving forged in emblazoned light.

Emerge

Carol Derby

In the Oxford English, as well as in my ear what comes next is emergency though emerge is older by a century, from a different root. Emerge is gradual. You may need time-lapse photography to witness her. She is not announced by siren nor ushered in by strobing light. The fragile crocus knows her. So too the dusty moth, rending her silk cocoon with the weakest of wings. Emerge moves steadily from heavy matter to thin light. My crocus, my moth — here we are, cautiously living.

Quarantine Bitch

Christina Kelly

#5: RSVP I cannot attend The virtual happy hour I'd have to shower #7: Lunch What fresh hell is this? We are out of salad greens Guess I'll eat these chips #12: Old I'd been wondering How I would look with gray hair I have my answer

unearthing angels

DFaye Anderson

the promise of sweetness incites tremors in places long unseen or heard from imagination rears from her disquietude knitting muscle and gut and wit anticipation, hope returns and so, she gathers her wings and reticence and eases into play

SPRING IS HERE

Dulcie Bird Crawford

Spring emerging from deep sleep winter Buds taking their time to open Eventually popping like popcorn Into the fresh spring air The colors sparkle across the wet green grass White purple Dark purple Sky light purple Blue sky water shimmers Rain pats on the shivering water Trees reaching for the sky Branches as tall as buildings We are one

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Emily D'Auria

Blackout curtains split. Heavy, but you try. Smells green, Like baby's first breath.

Haiku: Emergence

Erika Tullberg

It’s raining flowers Below the magnolia tree Above, light green leaves

My Attic

Erik Schurink

Pandemic life is an attic going out, a rickety staircase The memory of before merely thin air without decorum: Sunshades when sunny—check! A coat when cold—check! Rain in the forecast? Pack a poncho, just in case! My legs, these days—a ladder to pump room and air handlers. My blood coursing through walls, staleness fogging my windows. Yet I will go out—incognito— to listen to the birds flying over my skylight.

Renewal

Jay Brodbar

In this time of the plague The rules have been suspended. Books do not expire. The Library has decreed: Everything is Renewed! In this time of the plague Nothing moves. The streets are bare, But I sit comforted In my favorite chair Alone with the books In Perpetual Renewal.

Aglow

Jessica Heslin

And like the planets I turn away from you Reaching out to embrace A future self Who, in turn, reaches out to me Come, she said The waters are not calm But you are needed here For the unfolding Of a new light The old ways are over, gone You can weep at its graveside Or carve your name In the crystals emerging, Aglow with new life

Middle of the Morning in the Basement of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, early April 2021

Jessica Moser

The air is a little battered, somewhat shuttered. You can’t see the dust motes floating, slowly circling, but only because there is no window, no shaft of sunlight by which to illuminate. You move past the last orange cone that marks six feet and buy the ticket, masked purchaser to masked vendor. You climb the stairs to emerge into the Hall of Greek and Roman Art, with its friezes of goddesses and warriors, archers, lovers. How do you not count how many other people are here on this stone floor too, or measure, even briefly, if there is six feet between you and anyone else ? How do you remember to see the third century wings and torsos, stone and marble remade into gods, standing here before you?

Emerging

J. Leslie Jackson

Socially dormant For a year Maybe I know now how tulips feel Still and quiet In a dark cool space Missing the sweet touch of the wind The warm kiss of the sun Restlessly still Knowing others are near but far In the same state Hoping for a sign Reaching up and hoping Reaching Stretching out Hoping That breaking through When it happens Not if it happens Will last for more than one season

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John DiMino

I thought I’d try And find some time But all I had Was a pair of binoculars Through the lenses I left behind my lethargy And saw everything, Everything I hoped for. But being miles away I could not reach out and grasp it. So I hung my binoculars around my neck Laced up my boots, took a deep breath And went exploring.

Lilac, a song for my son with autism

Katherine Troyer

Remember when we placed the lilac by the road Amid the oaks, we wondered would it grow? We tended it, each year more leaves appeared No flowers bloomed. He came to us in winter, we were unprepared His timing off, we wondered how he’d fare With golden hair and eyes like chocolate moons Our perfect child. And then the doctors shook their heads They branded him He’ll never speak, there’s little hope for him He’s lost in his own world We vowed right then We’d find the way. I called you out one early hour in spring To see the prize A touch of white, a crown of lace A flower, bent toward the light You smiled and said it only took eight years We laughed through tears. We passed a woman walking on the road Thinking what to say He’s growing like a weed! We said, In fact, He’s growing like a lilac Arching toward the sun Waiting for the bloom.

I can’t be the same because I’m forced to adapt to the newness of my perspective

Lemmy Ya’akova

I’m in the middle of a deep exhale. I’ve never been like a loon their nature favours them to mate for life so sure of themselves an infinite earth I’m living in the quadrants of a slur this is another nodus but I’m undaunted by my own confusion, my robotic softness a hare gallops into the hot sun I’ve been impatient this entire patience and everyone smells caustic with rot in my dreams I dunk my arms shoulder deep in wet soil your frenzied hands grip mine and I pull you out

Sirens

Paola Quintavalle

Coffee E-mail A new day Siren Clapping Hands Notifying text Free meals are next Siren The desk feels too short While reading a letter to child who’s now ten “Why are we children?” She asks Siren Birds singing Siren Sun on the deck Bells from the Church The air is now warm The wind has just left Siren Talking to a friend Who is so far away Are you well? Are you afraid? Siren The sun is losing power The birds are getting louder How much weight Can I carry on my shoulders? Siren No garden No land Boiling water Again and again Siren Not sleeping But Still dreaming Siren Watching an eagle Missing people Siren Listen to a story Write a play Play a song Pray Siren Nothing is easy Fight and fight Not to be lazy Siren Sighing Posting Coughing Nobody is laughing

My Emergence Haiku

Naomi Tarantal

Worm pokes through mulched mask Slithering elastic loops Bird nest’s Covid twigs

THIS is THIS

Paul Leibow

I love to do This. This is one of my favorite things to do. I can’t make much money doing This, so I do That. That I can make money at. “Why not do This, just the way you do That and make money from doing That?” “Because if I do This, the way I do That, it won’t be This anymore.

Snow in February

Jesse Wrenn

The snow in February Is deep, white stuff Crusty and firm and tough A monstrous cold country But beneath is the working Of a warmth that was Planted there Last fall fell there when the leaves were riotous And blooms were tired of us Now a seeping thaw Melting at the roots And sinking in of truth Is coursing through forsythia stem Advancing up the angles of the elm A sort of rebellion against the year before Is under foot And when the white recedes Underneath Where once we couldn’t breathe There will be rich soft earth Giving birth to what was first And always there But in newly emboldened blossom

Cold Water Tree

Ray Keller (3rd grade)

By the cold water river I planted a seed Hot days burning my skin I want shade from the cold water tree I pushed back the muddy earth with my hands And planted a seed The little tree Looks like a bush with few leaves Leaves blown by hot wind Leaves that feel like cool air some leaves don’t stick to the tree They fly off into the air

Untitled

Rebeca Taub

Daffodils and crocus Raise their bright faces. Blossoms burst upon the Branches of the graceful trees. Another Springtime arises, After the Winter's grays, To green and glorious days. Emergence! We slowly slip from Emergency situation, Like cautious cats, whiskers a twitch For the danger dangling hidden in the air Since early last year. Release from this crisis, Science to the rescue Via the vaccine jab into Our open arm, Trusting advanced technology RNA to teach bodies To best survive. May we too emerge from Complacency to confront Our longterm problems, Of greenhouse gas and Social issues, to walk in Peace together and with Mother Earth.

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Sylvia Amato

SUBMERGED WITHIN THE THICK LAYERS OF MUD FORMED BY THE SWIRLING EDDIES \OF THE FLOOD OF THE VIRUS, A THIN RAY OF LIGHT ATTEMPTS TO PUSH THROUGH INTO EMERGENCE.

Emergence

Tim Kent

I am so lucky. My workplace is on the water. It is work that is, essentially, essential only for me. But if the CDC were to ride along for a day Deploying their most sensitive instruments, Spearing the sky with their longest, stickiest, most invasive swab, They could take their lazy time with the results. The report would always declare that the sky checked in as safe Even in the midst of this chaos. Every bit of COVID in the world Would not fill a soda can – look it up. Sooo…let me tempt you. Walk out to your unused stoop Or step out onto your lonely roof Or out the back door of your house to the untended lawn And look up at the limitless sky. There is safety in numbers The numbers are with you on your stoop or roof or yard. Open the windows and let the stale air out Find your comfortable shoes and a trail Walk. Sit in front of your building and greet the walkers, The welcome, familiar faces of…not that long ago. Go to your roof in the gloaming, Lie down, knit your hands behind your head And count the stars as they appear in the pure night sky. Release your fear with every one you count. All of life is risk. Yet there is at least a tiny bit of oxygen 30 miles in the sky. Compare that to our soda can not quite full of evil. Join me on the water Join your friends on the trail Join your partner on the stoop Join your children in the yard Step out of your zoom office/house/daycare/spousal trap And into the limitless sky. Close your eyes, tilt your face to the sun or to the moon Breathe deep You made it.

Glasses Clanking

Tressie Dalaya

Glasses Clanking in busy bars give way to vessels clanging at dusk Opera houses eerily empty as arias are bellowed from balconies Streets once bustling with callous people, now soundless, as these people retreat in to pray feverishly for other people, The air is purer, birds fly freer, beaches are cleaner and the water is clearer Only a memory now, those glasses clanking.

Back to School

Zoe Singer

NYC, March 2021 I’m waking up my son to do what he used to every weekday I imagine the best way is to part curtains pull in light and air, speak a voice that wants to get along with whatever was already happening in him. Who knows! We went to work and school and wondered how it would be to maybe take a break then the world broke open like a bag on the way home from the store we held tight what we could gather and save, the smashed rest of it spilled out on the ground We became a family of long-haired castaways We broke, gathered and learned that we can never leave Will it hold? We are indiscriminate doomed hoarders greedy for our lot humble recipients who patiently patch and rework what we have chosen glorious simple impure pointless incremental Is this us going back? A shaggy twelve-year-old in a mask and outgrown coat, unfolding from the car. He says: Time to put my game face on.

Good Humor

Sean Cole

I walked over to an ambulance and scratched out the “y” at the end of “EMERGENCY” It’s the first letter of “year” and I don’t need it anymore. Things appear right-way-round in our rearview but they’re so backward when you turn and face them. With my new ear, I tune in the tin ditties of ice cream trucks. I used to hate on those jingles. Then the whole city was bashed onto the rocks by sirens.

Take Off

Salvatore Principato

We made a plan that became a plane that took off eventually landing safely then We got stuck on the tarmac

The Emergence of Life

Annajean Morales

The emergence of life: Children’s laughter can be heard From across the street A laughter that hasn’t been heard in over a year Flowers blooming, birds chirping The sun blazing down as church bells ring Couples walking, stores opening For what seemed like a lifetime Streets were silent with not a soul in sight Doors locked, doctors and nurses fighting a fierce fight Against the threat we could not see Though the road ahead holds much uncertainty All around us, life begins slowly emerging again

As Words Emerged From a Pen

Annajean Morales

As words emerged from a pen Feelings that clinged to my heart Are now openly expressed on a piece of paper Thoughts that were held in the back of my mind Are now poured from ink like a bird soaring Through the air Secrets that couldn’t be told to another living soul Now emerge without fear All uneasiness, doubt and shyness vanish as Words emerge from a pen

Emergence Poem

Carol Egloff

A seed in the ground inside a miracle is found certainly not much to look at but wonders inside that In just a few days from within, in mysterious ways something amazing emerges new life surges to look at a seed you wouldn't think that so much info could shrink all the instructions within for new life to begin.

CONFUSION

Charlotte Gross

CONFUSION. Mid-april morning,. a cardinal descends silently. from the sun-bright sky. into a landscape of white. Settles onto a bough. bent low from an all-night. snowfall,. Royalty in red on. an icy-white throne. Looks down on a world. embroidered with newly. unfurled buds,. Pinks and whites and yellows. Blanketed. Cold. Expecting more.

Awakening

Robert René Galván

And then, the machine stopped; the sky began to clear when the great gears groaned to a halt; the ground ceased its shivering , stars appeared and beasts emerged in our absence, wings cast shadows over empty streets. In the gnawing silence, a distant siren reminds us of a gruesome tally; we peer from our doorways for a ray of hope, long to walk the paths we barely noticed. In the ebb and flow of life and death, we inhabit the low tides, a scant respite from irresistible waves. After a time, most will return to normal, become mired in old assumptions and petty desires, to the ways that failed us, But a few will awake to find that the world kept turning and changed: They will walk into the sun And shed their masks.

Emergence

Theta Pavis

The nurses have her up on the tilt board when I walk in. My sister – strapped in place. Like a little Frankenstein, held tight against the board, belts across her head and wrists and legs. Suspended, she will not take a step or open the present I have brought her. In this special ward, she is a candidate for coma emergence. Specialists will come and go, but in the end they resort to this: strapping her small body to a board every day, raising her from horizontal to vertical. Sending her system a message to wake up. And yes, she has cracked one, soft eyelid, just a sliver and I realize that if I crouch at her feet and look up, I can see just a little bit, beneath her black lash, the shining, brown marble of her eye. Shocking to see that brown, so familiar, but almost like I’d already forgotten it. That warm brown of the sun. I recognize the eye, small solider sent to scout the world from the far away asteroid where she is, checking to see if this is an afterlife. I stay at her feet.

Brood X

Tiny D

Brood X 17 years, 17 years, spent hidden, buried, under it all Pandemic X Y Z ain’t got nothing on me It’s all relative in the end you see You’re doing Amazon and Instacart While I’m sucking these roots dry Underground but i’ll be all around The time is almost right And I’ll spend all night, eating and mating to my heart's delight With my new wings, I’ll travel the world Finding love and starting new Cuz that’s what we do. We’re Brood X Coming to a tree near you This was inspired by the Brood X cicadas that will be emerging this spring.

NYC

Carmel Forte

newborn butterflies leaving the COVID cocoon world, please treasure us

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Carol Elgoff

A seed in the ground inside a miracle is found certainly not much to look at but wonders inside that In just a few days from within, in mysterious ways something amazing emerges new life surges to look at a seed you wouldn't think that so much info could shrink all the instructions within for new life to begin. “New Strain” by Thomas Giles My phone was frozen and frankly, if I was one of the chosen, I didn't feel like it But I swear, nice little neighborhood hook up, I made it there fair and square: eligible, booked by the Boro President's office, good to go. Good Friday too, so youknowyou. I go, twelve noon take my temperature I'm next, soon? No. Right now. Next? Oh wow. I'm in the right place, right time, right this way, I was cool, didn't pay a dime, have a seat. What am I having? JJ one shot? Sweet. Here. Done. We know you gotta run, but chill for a few, just making sure Johnson was good for you. (No problem, matter of fact I did a quick home visit on the way back ; ) Phone was still froze, it's okay now but then who knows; then an afternoon chilling. Good Friday night? Oh that was thrilling. Body aches, little shimmy shakes while the body anti bodies makes but meanwhile, with no dial, and even iI was steaming a little, that night while I was dreaming, all along knowing my coronavirus immunity was growing, my mind was still on you. So hello youknowyou know, how you go and how you Know

"How We Move From Here"

Christina Thompson

An emergence, from emergency. Are we meant to forget? Or wait and see what it begets? The days grow steadily in length. So much loss, amidst trees bursting with life. An abundance of longing, spurred by a scarcity of touch. Do the trees even know? Or rather, will they remember? A tug and pull between what's been, and where we want to be. Am I ready? Will we forget? The way it felt. Move on per our design? Ashes to ashes, it's hard to see through these glasses. The rose always gets in the way. The little things kept us going, but the brutal bits kept growing. I don't think it's fair to forget. For the fortitude held my hand The struggle kept me company The loss stayed loyal. And the loneliness remained by my side. No, I won't forget. But use it. Use it. A reconnection spawned from recollection. My memories mixed with yours. Not to supress what was, but to move forward because of. Hello. How are you? What do you remember? It's good to be with you again.

Emergence

Emilie Berner

Daffodils sigh into being. For months bulbs waited Under blankets of snow Rooted in the certainty That the sun would shine. They fill their cups with the beams— Beacons in the night. Emergent crocus pushes through Dark humus to reveal A purple bloom Persistent fecundity, A form for the formless. And stamen, flashing orange— Siren of spring. Buds swell on the tips Of cherry trees As if to say, we’re coming too! And with the flick of a switch, Sure enough. Blushing pink against blue skies-- Each blossom a remembrance. And from the depths of our own shadows, the thawing spaces-- we too must bloom.

Aparición

Hafsa Naseer

Bandadas de pájaros Apareciendo en patrones intrincados. Bancos de peces Confundiendo la mente. Hormigas corriendo En grupos organizados. El poder de la aparición. Individuos convirtiendo en algo más grande Más allá de su fuerza individual. &&&&&&&&&&&&&& Flocks of birds Appearing in intricate patterns. Fish banks Confusing the mind. Ants running In organized groups. The power of appearance. Individuals becoming bigger Beyond your individual strength,

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Mark Keller

When I heard Cassius Clay and Muhammad Ali Say, I am the greatest Something stirred in me Something dormant, but not asleep suspended faculties set into motion suspended by the venom of racist animals no more I was dormant, but not asleep I am the greatest The Animated, animating a slight movement a change in position hidden knowledge spoken publicly I am, hidden no more by the spiteful and malicious toxin of hatred suspended faculties set into motion I Am The Greatest Detracting from no one adding some small sum to everyone The Greatest I Am

Emergence

Maxine Brown

We've been on pause for far too long Thought we were just taking a break We were wrong And now we find ourselves lost and alone Away from those we love Afraid to touch or talk without a mask on I miss the contact it's been far too long Can't wait to see you The love is still strong

Clarity

Melissa Fabel

We’re speeding toward clarity on the Henry Hudson passing the little red lighthouse under the great gray bridge Silence Except for the music on your headphones I cannot hear the radio which you do not We are silent Having broke apart with the first hospitalization Severed by the second But unbroken still except by the silence of leaving clarity behind til next Saturday’s appointment Returning home with traffic on the FDR

Lessons Learned

Nancy Koan

I finally figured out how to wear pajamas with a blazer and pass as a dressed person, though perhaps the slippers give me away. I also learned how to eat eggs in 792 ways and drink coffee black, and believe that SkinnyPop was a source of protein. I learned how to allow my dog to beg, cajole and manipulate me between Stephen Colbert and James Cordon but not during BBC news. I learned how to skate across the floor with Clorox wipes attached to my socks as a new way of cleaning. I learned that brushing the teeth may just not be necessary as long as one wears a mask and lots of mascara. I learned that my landlord did not give out prizes for paying the rent despite hardship, and that sirens are no substitute for the tingly bells of the ice cream truck. I learned that meditation takes a lot of work, but is easier if you find a zoom group who have a sense of humor. I learned that a good mattress is hard to find, and a great haircut is worth the wait. I've learned it's been like a school and I guess it's a new degree for my C.V. But mostly, what I learned is, that I'm glad to still be here, and may happily unlearn a lot of the stuff when the movie reel finally changes. But I'll keep the clorox wipes

“In the Year Twenty Twenty”

Raymond Reddington

New Year’s day welcomed twenty twenty in Expectations for the future, bright not grim January and February passed into night Nothing surprising, for most that was all right March brought the Club President to Key West Sailing on a boat, “Commotion on the Ocean” Of what was about to unfold, he hadn’t a notion Times were not to be the best Coronavirus exploded over the earth Saint Patrick’s Day passed with no mirth Weapons of social distancing, lockdowns and masks Sadly, too many weren't up to the task Thousands died from disease Some from law enforcement unease Days, weeks, months blended to the same Hope’s light flickered, was the world in its end-game? Some learned to live in the moment Promises of tomorrow, subject to postponement Now there’s a vaccine, hope to see you soon Maybe at a Club beneath a Jerry Garcia moon

POEM (4/24/21)

Rolando Jorif

I wake up, But night has fallen. I’m as warm and indolent As sunlit yardwork makes available to old folks And stretch, then sit crumpled on the floor. Outside, the neighbors gather, Persistent, with their voices raised to emphasize That they are there to gather, Lacking the glowing fires Around which they should meet. I’m listening to them, and for you too, Like I listened in the garden, Under the sun, to birds As spring marched across the world.

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Ruth K. Bash

Halfway there, how so soon? There is so much still to do It feels like not enough time or too much time, I can’t decide I feel so much love But do they see it? Feel it? This is the work that must be done no excuses My body feels the years, the mirror tells the story And I wonder who I am, what I have become Can I still change it? Within reach or out of reach Does it even matter? And to who? What is beauty anyway The snow, the trees, the water, the path The lotus, downward dog The moments short and long The sound of the birds Their voices on the phone line Trains enter the station, planes touch down The side door opens, the front door opens My heart opens

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Susan Pelzer

Now Spring charms persuasively. A year ago, blue jays circled above a falcon on a fire escape, Shrieking for their dead hidden under its still body, Their haunting lament already ours, too

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Susan Pelzer

Now Spring charms persuasively. A year ago, blue jays circled above a falcon on a fire escape, Shrieking for their dead hidden under its still body, Their hunting lament already ours, too.

Aparición

Talia Kruzhkov

Nunca termina, vasto y oscuro Los planetas están solos en el espacio. Quieren un amigo, un compañero, alguien con quien flotar. La emergencia de un nuevo planeta, el nacimiento de un nuevo universo. Los planetas giran alrededor del sistema solar y dejan que la gravedad los sostenga. Una nueva entidad, un nuevo mundo, todo en forma de esfera. Oscuro, vacío y oscuro Las estrellas están solas en el cielo nocturno. Quieren un amigo, un compañero, alguien con quien flotar. La emergencia de una nueva estrella, el nacimiento de una nueva luz. Las estrellas iluminan la manta azul obscuro y brillan durante toda la noche. Una nueva entidad, un nuevo mundo, todo en forma de diamante. &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& It never ends, vast and dark The planets are alone in space. They want a friend, a partner, someone to float with. The emergence of a new planet, the birth of a new universe. The planets revolve around the solar system and let gravity support them. A new entity, a new world, all in the form of a sphere. Dark, empty and dark The stars are alone in the night sky. They want a friend, a partner, someone to float with. The emergence of a new star, the birth of a new light. The stars illuminate the dark blue blanket and shine throughout the night. A new entity, a new world, all in the shape of a diamond.

“Hugging Day”

Theodore Freeman

The sun goes down in a blaze of steadfast glory. It cries out with its last breath of the day, "Come out, Come eat. It's safe - the humans are inside!" An unlikely opossum crosses an abandoned street in the Big City, called to nose at some trash... it's like he owns the place. Formerly skittish deer and squirrels have quickly forgotten the dangers of frenetic, humanoid activity and run with abandon around hushed neighborhoods, as though they are back in the ancient woods. The birds sing and the trees bloom for they are not hushed... they are heedless of us as they have always been, communicating in their mysterious code and laughing to burst. It was not always so... until the virus showed up and showed us. Someday the story will be told: "In ancient times, humans did not see themselves as connected to all things. The fools thought they were rulers of all things and bathed in the conceit of their better-ness and turned it into separate-ness. Then a strand of DNA, wrapped in protein and fat or something like that - unimaginably small as the universe is big - made an Impossible Journey around The World. In its graceful act, Corona carried the message 'we are impossibly connected - all and sundry.' And yet at first, we separated even more. In the end, our doom was not to die out or cower in fear forever, rather to emerge one day. And that children, is how Hugging Day started. It was the day we heeded the call to come back together." Return with me to now, to this moment and know we are bound to return and plug back in. ALL intertwined with each other and with The Great Mystery? Soon, the cry will go out! Welcome to your CORONAtion you kings and queens! Come forth for Hugging Day and be renewed. Bless yourself, bless each other and especially bless those from whom you kept your distance and hated for their hue or shape or belief… The air is clearing and it will soon be time to answer the call. Will we see it? Will we get it? Take off your mask so we can all see you and get you...

Emergence

Theta Pavis

The nurses have her up on the tilt board when I walk in. My sister – strapped in place. Like a little Frankenstein, held tight against the board, belts across her head and wrists and legs. Suspended, she will not take a step or open the present I have brought her. In this special ward, she is a candidate for coma emergence. Specialists will come and go, but in the end they resort to this: strapping her small body to a board every day, raising her from horizontal to vertical. Sending her system a message to wake up. And yes, she has cracked one, soft eyelid, just a sliver and I realize that if I crouch at her feet and look up, I can see just a little bit, beneath her black lash, the shining, brown marble of her eye. Shocking to see that brown, so familiar, but almost like I’d already forgotten it. That warm brown of the sun. I recognize the eye, small solider sent to scout the world from the far away asteroid where she is, checking to see if this is an afterlife. I stay at her feet.

And We

Zoe Singer

Greenwood Cemetery, March 2021 Hawks circling in a whipping wind above trees over graves and we wandering between the things we see and cannot reach They tack wingtips and fanned tail in a tightening coil overhead teasing the top leaves barely formed by early spring and, as sometimes happens, we begin to scent the crematorium -- a sweet wrong smoke meeting the yeast of the bakery across the street It is late March and we want and we want and we want.

Emergent Empire

Michelle Rabinowitz Carney

Pale shoulders, dry elbows Apprehensive eyes, hidden smiles Brood X, new bridges and turnstiles We crawl, we creep We run, we strive Ever Upward Perhaps anew, New York

In Query of Cicadas

M J Kropf

Asleep? Perhaps at ease. You are there, just below, Waiting in place for years, Not that we ever know. And in sudden bloom, As if from dormant seeds, Your company attends us, To what end for your needs? Not floral are your forms, Of sprouting life in night, Presenting in clamour, A churning crop aflight. Cicadas, why just now, The point of your choosing? Is it perhaps some tease, for your amusing?

Aparición

Jason Askin

Aparición de las aves Se elevan por el aire agraciado, son sus alas cortan la atmósfera en sincronía no necesitan un líder. Ellos se siguen, En este momento todos son uno. su conexión es fuerte, Más fuerte que cualquier otro. Su aparición es consciente, Pero sin pensar. &&&&&&&&&&&& Appearance of birds Soar through the air graceful, they are their wings cut the atmosphere in sync they don't need a leader. They follow each other At this moment they are all one. There connection is strong, Stronger than any other. Their appearance is conscious, But without thinking.

Recovery (lower Manhattan 2001)

Jennifer Brown

I sniff the air like an animal Coming up out of its hole. I catch the scent, inhale sharply – Yes, it’s there, I can smell it. I follow the smell up the street to the wide torn-open sky. It always leads there, to the enormous hole. Stay with me smell, You are my guide into all that has happened. Keep burning, fires. It’s too soon to go out.

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Josh Lefkowitz

Flowers sprouting, grass is green, Adults over 30 can get the vaccine— Hope’s in the air but we’re not done yet— Keep masking up! It’s the safest bet.

La flor

Julia Kolinowski

El sol brilla intensamente El suelo mojado por la lluvia de ayer La dulce brisa primaveral que sopla del este Lentamente, los pétalos brotan desde el interior Los colores amarillos comienzan a mostrarse La flor de olor fresco que emerge en el aire como si se despertara de un sueño profundo &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& The flower The sun shines brightly The ground wet from yesterday's rain The sweet spring breeze that blows from the east Slowly the petals sprout from within The yellow colors start to show The fresh-smelling flower that emerges in the air as if awakening from a deep sleep

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Julie O'Sullivan

Dirt road concealing rippling water hideaway, tranquil respite from a virus infected world. Ivory lilies, adorned with circular leaves, undulating in wind fueled waves. Holding fast on deep rooted stalks, resisting the moody weather filled lake. We, stretching our limbs as if shedding a skin, transforming into amphibians. Croaking as we glide into the lily stalks. Submerged in cold sharp water that cleanses our tense bodies. Emerging, we sigh. Gently stepping onto the forest floor, slowly taking root and belonging.

Please Tell Me, Pop

Karen Topham

Pop, it’s really a warm summer day. Yet, my sweet girl, it is only April. Tell me, dear Pop, what’s in store for May? When will the buds unfold on the maple? Let’s take a wander around our large block And discover how life is unfolding. Take a peek, my child, behind this big rock. What secret is that young garden holding? What’s hiding down there in earth so dark brown? What slender stalks and petals are peeping? Get closer, sweet, on hands and knees bend down. Flowers have waked, they’re no longer sleeping. Warm spring days and ever-warming spring nights Bring bugs, birds, and flowers—many stunning delights.

Spring Gardening Amnesia

Kikki Short

Fresh shoots poking up What the heck did I plant there? Must wait to find out

On spring and our emergence from ignoring racism:

Lowell Williams

"Are we forever in Egypt? Can we never reach the Promised Land But only yearn for it Longing to cross over, to arrive, To celebrate the dignity and worth Of every tribe and every man and every woman To be one and to grant Us-ness To all? Cross over my brothers and sisters, cross over."

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Heidi Upton

There is a room in my house – hidden – secret – forgotten - where the worriers live. And only when their burden becomes too great – oh no oh no – do they burst forth in a dusty gust, wringing their long worried fingers, pulling at their long worried faces. And their cries “oh you will never”…and “it is too much” … and “you cannot, cannot”…wind themselves round my heart. And the terrible sweet stench of their chamber fills my soul with certain they are right! dread. And it is not until another sort of wind rises up from another quarter hopeful, clean, whispering so softly as to almost not be heard…“i can i will i can i will” does their door slam them in again…blowing them back and back to where they yet wait… and worry still, I suppose … and I forget them once again.

The Emergence of a Heart

Isabelle Krivosheyev

My heart - It sings and dances To the rhythm of a miraculous beat The beat that gives me life Health And appreciation How lucky am I to have this wondrous machine That keeps time moving Keeps life on its feet And my story continuous The heart works in mysterious way The cells Arteries Vessels and more In itself, the heart gives life But without its elements It won’t be whole &&&&&&&&&&&&& El surgimiento de un corazón Mi corazón - Canta y baila Al ritmo de un latido milagroso El latido que me da la vida Salud Y aprecio Qué suerte tengo de tener esta maravillosa máquina Que mantiene el tiempo en movimiento Mantiene la vida en pie Y mi historia continua El corazón funciona de manera misteriosa Las celdas Arterias Embarcaciones y más En sí mismo, el corazón da vida Pero sin sus elementos No estará completo

La manera de vivir

Jacqueline Avila

Cada año, todo cambia Nuestro entorno, vida y formas de pensar Empezamos pequeños y crecemos para vivir la vida. Animales que cuidan a sus crías hasta que sean capaces de ver el mundo por sí mismos Comenzamos este ciclo de nuevo &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& The Way of Living Every year everything changes Our environment, life and ways of thinking We start small and grow to live life. Animals that care for their young until they are able to see the world for themselves We start this cycle again

My emergence haiku

Janet Torsney

The yellow crocus pushing through the gravelly snowbank. Spring, again.

Jasmine Brassfield

En tu corazón

Un corazón es un corazón no es algo que en lo que pensemos pero hay más a un a corazón, más de lo que vemos Un corazón nació de una célula Un célula que, por sí sola, no puede bombear la sangre el cuerpo que no puede controlar Pero un fatídico día, otra célula apareció Ahora pueden trabajar juntos y traer un resultado muy beneficioso Un corazón no es solo un corazón es una hermosa muestra de trabajo en equipo porque uno se apreció con otro nuestro amor puede crecer a todo tipo &&&&&&&&&&&&&& In your heart A heart is a heart it's not something we think about but there is more to a heart, more than we see A heart was born from a cell A cell that, by itself, can't pump blood the body that can't control But one fateful day another cell appeared Now they can work together and bring a very beneficial result A heart is not just a heart it's a beautiful display of teamwork because one was appreciated with another our love can grow to all kinds

Late Spring

David Kach

Running, orange-black tissue scraps startled by breeze butterfly season

Early Spring

David Kach

The noon sun cinches shadows birthed by trees. Shoots thrust through the wintered ground

My (perhaps corny) short poem on emergence...

David Palmer

Almost behind us. Emergency. Ahead. Emergence. See?

MAGNOLIA

Deb Kayman

The bud, set in autumn, changes as the sun returns— a digit stretching from a woody hand— until the gray shell cracks and bits of white and pink begin to show unfurl first wrinkly as a newborn, opening to softest, smoothest skin, a shallow bowl, a wide-mouthed cup with subtle scent. I look inside. I want to bathe my face, submerge in soft. Too soon a segment falls away and then the others tumble to the ground turning tawny at the edge, their glory dissipated in a blink. All year, Magnolia makes me wait.

“April”

Deborah Morales

Here I sit Trapped in winter’s grief, Pasty faced, Wearing drab. Five pounds of comfort food has settled in, Hoping to stay the summer. The groundhog, having spread false rumor, Has returned to his burrow. Guiltless, Content. He knows the truth. No one trusts a groundhog. I want to rid myself of excess. Paint the walls white. Hang turquoise curtains. Fling heaviness out the window. Despair has paralyzed me. I watch and wait. Teaser days lure spring bulbs. Wind whispers to the leaf buds. I, frantic with anticipation, Write lists: Mulch, manure, peat moss. I will be prepared. Still, it arrives as a surprise. Bluest sky, yellowest sun, greenest canopy. I forget the dark, Escape the couch, Remember how to smile, I am reborn.

Starting Gun

Edson Atwood

No. Not again. First thought in the morning. A brief terror, the segue between sleep and the day’s course yet begun. Shudder at the thought— Must I pace the rising sun? Then, at second breath— either give up right now, laze in bed, or lace up. That is why—bang!—I rise, in rain, in snow, in heat, in ice, in pain, in illness, a journeyman in sneakers.

Alchemy of Innocence Emerging

Clare Rosenfield

Inhale the juicy tangerines and scarlets as they creep up leafy veins transforming, Distill each pristine color into the well of your most earnest intentions, After all without guile they exist As pure power Like guardian angels in clusters, Like siblings of peony petals and forsythia bushes, Hydrangea blossoms and grapevines, Pomegranate seeds and fields of grain, Like all that has been fruitful and multiplied. Could we absorb deep their sap of innocence, Pour it into our own That we lovers of our earth and the alchemy of blossoming may prevail? Steadfast bear witness to the splendor Of emerging consciousness Not gone awry?

Aparición

Daniel Gorelik

Una flor se sienta en el suelo Y disfruta de las maravillosas vistas, Respira los hermosos aromas Mira los rayos del sol, brillan intensamente. Ha sido un largo invierno Es feliz que los árboles están floreciendo. Toma el sol en los rayos del sol El clima cálido finalmente está aquí. &&&&&&&&&&&&&&& A flower sits on the ground And enjoy the wonderful views, Breathe in the beautiful scents Look at the sun's rays, they shine brightly. It's been a long winter It is happy that the trees are blooming. Bask in the rays of the sun The warm weather is finally here.

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Camble Scott

Life's last browns Sew seasons green Leaden limbs Grow gold again Dirt and downs Go in between Summers end So suns begin

Emergent seas

Camble Scott

Swell with power Rolling towards the shore And all I see At this late hour Are only many more

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Beth Evans

They know emerging well, Well, like in: experienced, Coming from a watery source, deep and original. Rarely well like in: health, strong and supported. Instead, battered and bullied, But still coming through and out, From the welcomeless space. Having come out before, First as a boy who thought he just liked boys, And then as a boy who knew he was not a boy. Stepping out, Adorned in splendor, Despite no formal debutant’s ball. She wore a dress to it all, Every flared-screen rom-com, Every dating site dot com, Her one and only high school prom. Now they emerge, Neutered, in this spring’s chiffon cover of PPE, Double-masked, an EMT, Emerging Medical Technician, Emerging trans, Lustrous lavender lips, To no avail available, But the eyes, Battle blue eyes, Visible, Speak of their own release and arrival, And welcome across and out and in To a healing place and chosen kin.

She Continues to Emerge

​Annajean Morales

She continues to emerge Hardship has thrown many blades Hitting their target with the sharpest edges Still she persists Not wallowing, nor dwelling Life is cruel, but also beautiful Even just a flicker of faith can be found In the most haunting places She stumbles and falls, not wanting to get up Not wanting to move forward Nevertheless, she continues to emerge With a little faith at a time.

Building

Alina Rodriguez-Arenal

Does an assignment To write a poem About emergence Make a poem emerge? If you’re like me, And defiance makes it’s Voice heard At every turn, Even tenderly Loud as the birds are This first April morning Rent stabilized as they are In the courtyard trees— you’d want to write about Trash strewn like The prelude to a Sex scene in a bad Movie, the clothes leading To the bed. You’d want to write about Children young enough To miss at bedtime Still, And old enough to Want only packages On birthdays. And Somehow related, Because humans draw Sad lines between things, All the hollowed City stores, so beautiful To photograph, Lots of room For reflection Of the street and branches, lights that blink Primary colors of Direction, warning Or emergency, Scaffolded, inside, by empty shelves and Unused mirrors. You know you should write About the one daffodil That every year now Surprises the living room With it’s soft green Straight-up stalk And the one spring The yellow flower Came and was The definition of Hopeful yellow, and All by itself, The sound of toasting glasses. But instead what comes To the mind’s empty page Is the man whose Shoes, photos, Artisanal vodka (there is such a thing), Artichoke spread, Tax forms Remain because the Only way not to fight Is to live between Durango and New York. In many world war movies There is the woman Or man Or child Standing on top of ruble. Always somewhere near the top. You can sometimes Identify a bureau or a door, A vase or the corner of A stove might peek out. The cinematographer gets It all, the loss and damage And the luck, The luck to be alive. This is the best I can Do with the assignment Of emergence. The real life pile, Like children’s blocks Or pick up sticks. And of emergence I can be grateful For this tiny self That is no longer Negotiates or tolerates But feels like The grass between My fingers As a child. Necessary. I’ve failed this assignment To write something lovely With sun and pinks And wind and boats On singing blue waves. All I can do is To think that The woman or man Or child pulls at Their heavy wool coat, Looks up to the Unchanged sky And thinks about Building.

Emergiendo hacia la grandeza

Adam Gutman

Como un ave fénix del fuego emerjo con la mente clara, puedo ver mi camino lo más firme posible, me preparo para el futuro y la persona que deseo ser. Hay una furia, un fuego, emergiendo en mi corazón, uno que no se puede detener. Seré fuerte e inquebrantable en mi vida, con su daño no seré aplastado con nada menos que un cuchillo. y furia mi fuego mi alma naciente passonitye, guíame sin sabiduría para siempre. &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& Like a phoenix from the fire I emerge with a clear mind, I can see my path as firmly as possible, I prepare myself for the future and the person I want to be. There is a fury, a fire, emerging in my heart, one that cannot be stopped. I will be strong and unshakable in my life, with its damage I will not be crushed with anything less than a knife. and fury my fire my nascent soul passionate, guide me without wisdom forever.