Living, Poetry, Uncategorized

Looking for Signs of Life

A brown curled claw
skittering along the ground

Singular movement amidst
the frozen expanse of pavement

Only when you get close enough to see the fingers,
knuckles scraping the rocky surface,
can you distinguish the knobs of an oak leaf,
stem protruding like a tail

Propelled by the wind

a legion of birds wrapped in wing
a chipmunk
a squirrel,
a lizard scampering by

All alive according to the eye

But in this cold raw place between snow and spring
dry, brittle leaves are all that dance
born on the rhythm of weather patterns and wishful thinking

Standard
anxiety, Depression

Whirling Dervish

Hands shaking, limbs twitching, cells, veins vibrating, blood boiling.

Breath ragged, tears prickling, sobs wracking.

The physical shell spins

The mind reels

Emotions swarm and swamp

Even the calm between the swells a sad, dead place.

There is no taking a bow.

The dance is never over.

The dervish whirls and twirls herself into a tizzy.

from Abundance Created Together

from Abundance Created Together

Standard
Living, Mental Health, Survival

Self-Care: A Cautionary Tale

I didn’t eat breakfast.

I drank caffeine.

I didn’t take my meds.

I stared at the computer screen all day.

I reread a beautiful, but sad book.

I cried hand-clamping tears.

I had a late lunch.

I didn’t get dressed until 4 PM.

I fought with my husband.

I looked things up online by only the light of my phone.

I went to bed too late.

—————————————

I awoke at 5:45 to the crash of thunder,
the wind whirling,
the rain pummeling.
Mother Nature matching my disconcertment.
Trees torn from their roots,
leaves littering the ground –
a mess of downed limbs and debris.
But soon the sun is shining,
the water a glaze of calm.

image

Jennifer Butler Basile

Still, my head is in a vice.
My stomach churns.
There is much recovery to be done.

Standard
Living, Poetry, Survival

Knots

Why do we not let ourselves be held?

Are we afraid of the fallout?

Of the softening
that occurs with the slightest
of pressure on the hard outer shell

Cracking the protection
we have absurdly built up

Thinking we can fool
the shadows that lurk
just out of sight

A touch, a push, a gentle squeeze
and it all comes rushing to the surface

Releasing the tension
that does nothing but tie us up

Standard
Poetry, Spirituality

Grace

The bounce in the step
the joy bubbling up and over
through words, demeanor, joie de vivre

The hearty laugh
blossoming at the core, rolling out in waves
infectious, contagious, sanctifying – us

The conscious breath
undulating and growing with each notice
the physical embodiment of our existence

It fills us –
if we watch for it
if we train our eyes with a gentle gaze
if we open our heart to the gifts around us

It imbues us with a calming peace
and a loving embrace

We can all glide through life with a little grace

Standard
Living, Poetry

A Few of My Favorite Things

When a knit stitch pulls through smoothly, with satisfaction

The strength of a bond pulled taut, in spite of the miles

Connection

Certainty

Sun on your face

A wind rushing through the trees,
upturned eyes searching for a brief blot of the sun,
finding an osprey soaring high above

An upsurge of soul,
a welling of emotion

Fleeting, yet profound

We must seek these moments for all they are worth.

Standard
Living, Poetry

Just Below the Surface

The earth is still brown, the ground dull and bleak.
Leaves of brittle rust, crumpled and curled in upon themselves.
Evergreen needles even a muted hue.

But the air is different.
A hawk cries out as it soars above the seemingly dormant trees.
The deer move, the squirrels feed.

The snow looks sad in its blankets now softened around the edges.

insidecaledon.com

insidecaledon.com

Piles of sand seal the seams of the roads.

Nature’s energy vibrates just below the surface.
All of creation holds its breath.
Breathe deep and release it.

Standard
Depression, Poetry, Recovery

In my Resting, In my Rising

I chase down cures in my dreams,
seeking the open office door,
the present practicioner,
but they’re never there, never open.

Test after trial, trial after tribulation
No solution in sight.
Tablet, pill, capsule.
Needle, scale, survey.

No magic bullet.

There are symptoms, there are diagnoses,
but no cure.
No point of origin to return to and restart.

I want someone to fill this hollow inside –
but the only cure is in there as well.
It lies at the core of me,
but I am so very tired . . .
and cannot wake from this nightmare.

Standard