Hold Your Seat

I am not who I once was.
It is obvious and fascinating.

Never before would I have taken such pause
in the face of hurt and anger.
Words would have lashed out wildly,
the resulting moment of self-righteousness
followed swiftly by regret.

A different path, this time.
Choosing to hold my seat
rather than react, to take a hard look
at what was burning in me and why.
Pushing up against the discomfort,
feeling it rather than fighting it.

Almost as soon as I welcomed it,
it melted away. And there it was,
a taste of the equanimity
I am learning to cultivate.

Tonight I am grateful to simply observe
the nature of my own humanity
without judgement.

There is so much to be seen
if we are only willing to look.

From the Lookout

My dreams are vast tonight
though I've yet to close my eyes.

Stretching out before me
are the peaks and valleys
of a life well lived.

Mountains of experience
born of chances taken
and boundaries pushed -
that inner voice, followed.

Images rolling by, a cold mountain
stream of stories tumbling
through time, and just as clear.

A calm mind and a full heart
declare destiny, not fantasy,
and all will be familiar
when these moments come to pass.

"Welcome back," they'll whisper.
"Welcome home.
We always knew you'd come."

La Bella Luna

Such comfort
in the moon tonight.
She offers wisdom
without fail.

Round and full
or a sliver of herself,
elegant and luminous
or obscured by clouds,
every variation of her being
is of equal value.

Steady she goes
through the constant cycles,
change in every moment,
and yet always right where
she should be.

A valuable lesson learned
with a simple skyward gaze.

I am ever grateful to be learning.

Listen To The Mustn'ts

The boys were afraid of the storms tonight, so we retreated to the basement and spent most of the evening delighting in several Shel Silverstein books my grandparents gave me as a young girl. One has a "happy birthday" inscription with hopes that I'll enjoy the book throughout my life. I certainly have, and still am more than 25 years later.

One poem we came across didn't spark childhood memories like so many others, but it gave me pause tonight. I plan to read it to these little people again and again, with hopes that it might find a place in their ever-expanding minds, and reappear throughout their lives as a reminder that even when life gets stormy, there is nothing to be afraid of. Because anything can be.

Listen To The Mustn'ts

Listen to the Mustn'ts, child,
Listen to the Don'ts.
Listen to the Shouldn'ts,
The Impossibles, the Wont's.
Listen to the Never Haves
Then listen close to me-
Anything can happen, child,
Anything can be.

-Shel Silverstein

The Calm and The Quiet

I could lie here
all night
and never tire
of the warm air
and hazy moon glow
and most of all
the calm and the quiet
within.

The calm that has
eluded me for ages,
now nestled snug behind
my breastbone,
tucked in and feeling
right at home.

The quiet my mind
had all but forgotten-
no spinning, no reeling,
just stillness and light
behind my eyes.

This very moment
feels good, for once.
Grateful, I'll stay while I can.
Tomorrow? I thought of it.
And then I let it go.

I'll lead with my heart when I get there.

Not Tonight

I'm here
and I want to write.

To put to words
the endless thoughts
swirling around
and through me
as darkness falls.

But my favorite ritual
of rearranging letters
and sounds to suit
the moment
is failing me.

It's no use,
the usual sorting
of syllables that so often
brings me back
to the here and now.

My compass points North tonight.
The needle unwavering.

So be it.

June 19th At Dusk

Front porch sittin'
Beer bottle sweatin' (ain't we all...)
Tides a-turnin'

Just me, here, in the dark,
that I can see, anyway.

But if I listen, there's me
and all the people closed up
in their little boxes all around,
air conditioners hummin' away.
There's them, too.

Oh, then there's me and that whip-poor-will
up there on the bluff, in the woods to the south.
He really, really knows what he wants.
I'd like to ask him how he's so sure of himself.
There's him, too.

And if I listen even a bit more closely,
well, there's me and my heart.
When it screams I don't listen, but
tonight it whispers and I can hear.
There's that, too.

Just me and them,
him and that,
front porch sittin'
beer bottle sweatin'
tides a-turnin'.