An Ode to Joon, and Idgie

There’s an old saying about soul mates
And I don’t know what it is, something
To do with knowing one when you
Meet them -- Have I ever met mine?
To tell the truth, maybe only an incarnation 
Of a person who played characters and
So I have no idea who she really is or where
 
So, this is an ode to Joon an angry painter
Who had to be watched and a song for
Idgie who wore trousers when she 
Shouldn’t have -- one woman hidden and
Broke, the other broken and unwilling
To hide. Twisted up by 
Standards of culture 
Trapped then untapped by longing--

I’ll tell you that they are brought to life
By love -- by the truth of being seen by
A person who sees them in their truth--
Joon loved by a man caught up in
Magic -- Idgie loved by a woman 
Caught up in tradition.  Why -- is it the
Loud voice yes and the straw hair and
The home she makes outside 
Expectations without a room for
Acceptance. That’s Joon, that’s Idgie,

Girls teetering into womanhood 
Hurtling and hiding and finding that 
They fit best inside an idea of themselves
Not reflected back to them
Anywhere. So they retreat into love and love
And love and love pours out of them--
So that the receiver find themselves
Washed away. Away, the way the love is
Supposed to be -- the way love needs
To be the way love is and always
Has to be.

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