Peace requires drastic action.
— Josephine Nobisso, Saint Juan Diego and Our Lady of Guadalupe
A blessing, my door being open that day.
Neighbor Irene strolls by, spots the travel items about the bed.
“Did you know?, Irene means peace”. I hadn’t. Lug my suitcase up, unzip.
“I’m to Europe soon,” I explain. It’s where she’s from.
“No, no!, not what you want, just pack what you need.
I’ll be back in a bit” she says. And she is.
My proud pile lies expectant, a barest branch.
“Wonderful!” I hear, “Now cut it in half”.
I didn’t. Not then, that Spring of 1997.
I mean seriously, how do you cut a need -– It’s needed.
I’d board my flight to Germany, Motherland.
My suitcase and two carry-ons in tow, such unruly children.
Next time, I vow — I’ll travel light.
It never came.
Hit by a truck that Fall upon return, permanent disability.
My itinerary now? A permission of sorts. A daily choosing.
Between need and need. Between good and good.
*From prompt: Write a poem about advice/conversation, as inspired by “Lament for the Maker” by Bonnie Naradzay. From Robbi Nestors generative writing class (The Poetry Salon), November 16, 2024. And inspired by productivity expert Alicia Cohen’s approach to decluttering one's schedule: not simply eliminating what no longer benefits, but choosing between the good and the good.