The Softness of a Country Rose For Mary Jo Hoose

A stranger lifted me up today While I was lost in my own self-centered universe, Silently crying about nobody else reading, commenting or caring About anything I’ve said, Considering myself poetically dead. I’ve been more concerned with the encroaching materialistic Responsibilities, requirements and concerns of living Instead of turning my attentions outward towards others And lifting myself out of this whirl pool of self-pity Into the ocean of giving. When to my wondrous delight dark turned to light As out of seemingly nowhere a fellow poet spoke gently and composed: “Your poetry is like the softness of a country rose.” And while I know not where she lives and breathes This furtherance of feeling was shared with me: “I too am blue as sky is gray and nothing more will do today Except ethereal connections are how we poets play.” I was more than moved, to say the least How this gypsy out of cyber space Renewed my poetic vow: To speak the truth simple, plain and clear As I know how. And how My words and hers connected Through the vacuum of space and time Is a story for another day and rhyme. Until then, I stand transformed By those few words she engendered – And would give anything to tell her How sweet and kind her words were rendered.