Little Joys

The colors of flowers bring me
More joy than I can state.
Seeing natural beauty spark
From nothing to something
Radiates my soul in a way
That’s difficult to explain.
It’s a reminder of change
And time, both moving
Forward as is life, that
Nothing is permanent.
These fleeting beauties
Will settle or fade
Into the summer
But my what feelings
The pull from me now.

Faces

The ways in which I view
My reality come to the surface
With each new day.
Some days are heavy and I learn
To sit instead of resist the way
In which my mind has learned
To operate, the protections
In place to keep me sane
While I wiggle room to dance
In the madness of my mind
Under the stars and screens.
Some days are light and I can
Comfortably carry the versions
Of myself with ease and grace,
Knowing the roles they played
Which made me the woman
I am today. With the inner critic away,
My thoughts are reorganizing
To become someone who can
Trust myself, to hear my voice,
To stop avoiding and start finally
Writing down what I have to say
Without fear of what I cannot control.

It’s Happening

Spring has finally arrived
only took a month to make
her debut in this humble year.
I embrace her fully as she
saunters into the day as though
she’s not held off her entrance,
leaving us all freezing for
far too long, leaving us questioning
if she was ever going to show up.
But she does and we thank her for it,
the birds sing in her sunlight,
people walk the beach and embrace
the calm before the storm,
the perfect in-between weather of
warmth and freezing. I soak in
her rays, knowing these fleeting
moments will soon be lost with
the wind and the heat of the
following season. Right now,
its a perfect moment. Be grateful
to experience change as
it’s happening.

Green Eyes

For Jimmy

I fell in love with your green eyes
the second I saw you.
I watched their vibrancy fade over
the years but my love 
for you never did.
You were a constant light in
my life, a source of comfort
when everything felt unsteady.
Your patience with your reality,
especially with the cat always sticking
his foot on your forehead
was unmatched.
I admired your calm exterior and 
related to your fluttering anxiety
at times when it would come
to the surface.
I will think of you often
and carry your light forward,
passing onto others 
how you made me feel.
Always a champ taking a paw to the forehead.

Bed Ridden

The crystals in my left ear 
kept me in bed 
for three days.
I hated screens, movement,

and the reminders of life 

outside my room.

I sought comfort 
in 
the sound of my fan

on my dresser and the darkness

sleep brought, which was more

often than not. 
It’s the only way

I could feel comfortable, 
drifting off

into sleep, avoiding all 
signs of anything,

not long enough to dream 
but enough to
 be
relieved from the horrid reality 
I was experiencing.

Writer’s Block

“The creative adult is the child who survived.” —Le Guin

It’s difficult to explain to those
who don’t understand.
The throughline of childhood
breaks off somewhere as
the decades continue on. 
I hold tight to my pen 
to make sense of 
those early years.
How they defined
the woman
I am today.
Healing my inner child
one day at a time.
Poetry helped me
find my voice,
but what happens
when I have 
nothing to say?

Memory of Pink Faded Clouds

The early November sky
before sunrise is untouchable.
It’s quiet but fierce, wanting
to burst into the day
but takes a moment to breathe.
I drive east. I watch the dark
blue grow lighter
pops of yellow appear
below the horizon,
as though the sun is ripping through
the universe, through the land and sky,
to say good morning, hello.
Music plays, it’s too early to
comprehend a thought fully.
My eyes view this magic
through a grainy filter.
I replay it in my memories
hours later. It feels like
a different day,
a different time.
like a dream.
I see the faded pink clouds
float in the cod autumn air.
I don’t hear the music in my memory.
I hear a vibrant silence as I wait,
wait for the day to begin.

11.04.2021

One Week

I'm writing this
from a place
of clarity,
the place I get to be
one week a month
or 12 days 
if I'm lucky.
The haze had cleared,
the spirals have settled,
I can pinpoint my feelings
and work through them
in more balanced ways.
I'm not swinging from one
emotional extreme to the other.
I don't take things 
as personally.
The lens I look at
my life through
isn't as low.
My sadness has
gone back out 
to sea for
the time being.
This is the week
I find stability
or the closest
I can get to it.
The more I awareness I have
on the weeks where 
I jet off into space
on an emotional 
roller coaster,
the easier 
it becomes to
ride the waves.
I can get through things
knowing I will have 
one week
to breathe easier,
the calm before
the next storm.