If I were a bee
If I were a bee, I’d get lost in the folds of a peony,
pollinate poppies along golden hillsides,
mingle with black sage.
I’d craft sweetest of nectars,
the most luscious of honeys,
carry it for miles and miles,
just to see a smile on a child at the border.
I’d bear the sweetest honey to nourish
and bathe los niños, fill them with love.
I’d sing sweet serenades by day,
lullabies by twilight,
penetrating those sterile walls.
Beyond the cacophony of jailers’ keys,
there’d be a symphony of bees.
We’d distract and stun the guards,
bring them to their knees,
so, when they opened the cages,
all the children would be free.
My other apian companions would’ve found
the cells of the madres and
the queen bee would lead us
all to reunite the families--
each and every one.
There’d be nothing but tears of joy,
sweet abrazos and honey dripping from their lips,
besitos between los niños y las madres...
We’d dance together and make our way back
to gardens of those who care and have room to spare
to help these families cultivate their new life,
know the meaning of esperanza, feel life in their veins,
taste the sweetest of honeys...
If only I were a bee...I’d set all the children free...
Jalisco in Watsonville
I visited Jalisco, little Havana and the Middle East
on the streets of Watsonville during the middle of the night.
I stumbled upon the tastiest grilled chicken on a stick,
was drawn to the heart of town by Jaliscan dancers,
fanning roses out of the folds of scarlet skirts,
as their perfectly woven braids bobbed on their heads,
cascading with ruby ribbons,
embodying everything beautiful about life.
On the way to the taverna,
I bought a knitted dress for my granddaughter
in the Arab quarter, hand crocheted in blush pink,
her favorite color—tipped the local street musicians--
a singer and keyboardist that filled the alley way
with their souls for a few bucks.
I received a precious shell pressed into my palm
from a woman who drew it out of her apron skirts
with her name inscribed on it—all of this beauty
kissed me before dawn and my morning coffee
and the familiar sound of sea lions barking
on a foggy morning in Monterey.
Marie Boucher is an Assistant Professor at the Middlebury Institute of International Studies at Monterey (MIIS), teaching advanced writing, presentation, and intercultural communication skills to international students.
Marie has published her poetry in the The Porter Gulch Review, reads regularly at venues throughout the Monterey Bay--including Old Capitol Books, UCSC, MPC, and Cabrillo College. Her poetry has been included in productions of the Eclectic Collective performed at the Dali Museum and Lit Quake, SF. Marie is currently working on a collection of poetry entitled Becoming River.
If I were a bee, I’d get lost in the folds of a peony,
pollinate poppies along golden hillsides,
mingle with black sage.
I’d craft sweetest of nectars,
the most luscious of honeys,
carry it for miles and miles,
just to see a smile on a child at the border.
I’d bear the sweetest honey to nourish
and bathe los niños, fill them with love.
I’d sing sweet serenades by day,
lullabies by twilight,
penetrating those sterile walls.
Beyond the cacophony of jailers’ keys,
there’d be a symphony of bees.
We’d distract and stun the guards,
bring them to their knees,
so, when they opened the cages,
all the children would be free.
My other apian companions would’ve found
the cells of the madres and
the queen bee would lead us
all to reunite the families--
each and every one.
There’d be nothing but tears of joy,
sweet abrazos and honey dripping from their lips,
besitos between los niños y las madres...
We’d dance together and make our way back
to gardens of those who care and have room to spare
to help these families cultivate their new life,
know the meaning of esperanza, feel life in their veins,
taste the sweetest of honeys...
If only I were a bee...I’d set all the children free...
Jalisco in Watsonville
I visited Jalisco, little Havana and the Middle East
on the streets of Watsonville during the middle of the night.
I stumbled upon the tastiest grilled chicken on a stick,
was drawn to the heart of town by Jaliscan dancers,
fanning roses out of the folds of scarlet skirts,
as their perfectly woven braids bobbed on their heads,
cascading with ruby ribbons,
embodying everything beautiful about life.
On the way to the taverna,
I bought a knitted dress for my granddaughter
in the Arab quarter, hand crocheted in blush pink,
her favorite color—tipped the local street musicians--
a singer and keyboardist that filled the alley way
with their souls for a few bucks.
I received a precious shell pressed into my palm
from a woman who drew it out of her apron skirts
with her name inscribed on it—all of this beauty
kissed me before dawn and my morning coffee
and the familiar sound of sea lions barking
on a foggy morning in Monterey.
Marie Boucher is an Assistant Professor at the Middlebury Institute of International Studies at Monterey (MIIS), teaching advanced writing, presentation, and intercultural communication skills to international students.
Marie has published her poetry in the The Porter Gulch Review, reads regularly at venues throughout the Monterey Bay--including Old Capitol Books, UCSC, MPC, and Cabrillo College. Her poetry has been included in productions of the Eclectic Collective performed at the Dali Museum and Lit Quake, SF. Marie is currently working on a collection of poetry entitled Becoming River.