Let Me Count the Ways… For Sharon

Written by: Kristin Reynolds

How many?
how many lives;
how many have fallen 
beneath 
your magical spell? 

If it may be so, 
let each star be named 
You.
 
For your beauty transpires 
our words 
into all shine and sheen cast out
from the darkness and starkness
of infinite space –
(as they were intended to be seen)
as if even the light shining forth 
from between 
the pervading clouds of life’s 
perpetual storm –
(day to day to day, 
and on)
recognizes your poetic touch, 
as deliverance;

stopping, halting, driving 
the wedge of night out 
of our very hearts,
as if just being here, seeing them
(seeing you) 
really seeing the stars 
                  (through your eyes we see – 
you are clear, you are 
amplified 
like dew on leaves – with us being 
as leaves) opens up 
our every pour;
pouring forth what may never 
have been seen
without your dewy light’s reflection, 
refracting –
how else can the green of leaves 
be certain, 
that they are also
made of stars,
if not first being shown
the point of green?

Yes, if it be so,
let the stars be named 
Yours.

Let each one bare their own weight 
(light is weightless - don’t you see?) 
before it’s too late, 
and all the leaves (our leaves – 
our hearts)
start to twist 
into autumn -  a lazy
haphazard dance
to nowhere –

dry and cracked 
to the desperate open mouth 
of ground; 
left to writhe amongst the yellowing mulch, 
like ornately colored 
lead paperweights 
waiting 
for the cold of winter 
to still 
our beating 
hearts –

You are like stars.

A multiplicity of the exponential 
magnifying each one who sees;
(recognizing our own in you)
light touching light through the heart
of our own.

You are our spectacle, Miss. Weimer –
our looking glass into 
the night sky,
reminding our hearts
how to shine.

And for this I say, Thankee-Sai –
Thankee Big big
                (a kindred thank you – you see, I see)
for Being,
and for touching us with the ends
(and beginnings) of your lit up
fingertips, 
shattering our stormy skies
into multitudes 
of separate
stars.

How many ways do we love you?
Too many ways to count –

There are so many stars.


***I'm sure this poem is going to end up being redundant, as many will write about our 
lovely, Sharon Weimer, but I felt I must, simply because - and that's all the excuse I 
needed. She's been a good friend, in more ways than I can count :) We love you, Shar - 
keep shining, and never forget what you're made of.

For another of our beloved poets, Miss. Christie's P.S Member Dedication Contest. :)