Holding Space

Years now of digging
and I've finally carved out
an authentic heartspace.

Solid braces of clear intentions
hold this space wide open,
spare it from collapse.

It is precious, but still not heavily guarded.
Show up for me and I will repay you in kind,
for what is there ever to do, really, but love?

Burning Bright

For days and nights now

I've burned,

a white hot flame

at my center.

Ever brighter,

this fire of life,

my power lies in 

the heat.

Why did I ever think to douse it?

Why ever attempt to give it away?

I promise to fuel it, tend it, spread it,

and never let the ashes go cold again.

Invitation

This, this, this...
This is real living,
real loving, real being.

Deep connections:

belly laughs

heart music 

soul speak

movement

stillness

sound 

silence

It's all meant to be shared
or all meaning is lost.

Come along, come along!
The road winds long before us;
my outstretched hand awaits.

Looking Back

I remember where I was
a year ago
right about this time.

It was an ocean of
exquisite heartache
and I was so far out to sea.

But there were
undercurrents of courage
and the occasional
wave of hope.

Slowly the tides began to turn.
I caught sight of land
and just kept swimming.

Some days I still can't believe
I made it to the shore.

Turned On

A cosmic switch has flipped:
fear to excitement,
anxiety to curiosity,
apprehension to courage.

Wonder all around
and so within,
simple moments, miracles.

The Truest of True

I offer it all up to you tonight,

full moon of transformation and rebirth.

My every desire, every struggle, yours.

My whole being,

strip it down.

Clear away what does not serve,

make room for more and higher still

a love not yet defined. 

I will not cling

but let you wash it all

from my open heart and hands,

honoring their emptiness

until they slowly fill

with only the truest of true. 

Om Gum Ganapatayei Namaha

Welcome

There is a new woman in my life.

This woman, she's sure of herself,
stands up straight and tall.

This woman, she speaks her truth,
shares the deep and sacred.

This woman, she's relaxed,
brow smooth and unfurrowed.

She sleeps, this woman, uninterrupted,
and dreams and dreams and dreams...

I'm just getting to know her,
but she is so welcome here.

I've awaited her for ages,
and was once afraid she'd never come.

A Dense Calm

A dense calm has settled
at the center of my chest.

It's heavy in a comforting way,
like a lover's arm around your shoulder.

Knowing brought it here, a certainty
that I am right where I need to be.

It holds me in deep appreciation
for the journey thus far
and all that is yet to come.

Anahata

Moving body with breath
professes love
as endless as the night sky.

In complete silence,
it is amplified a thousand times
over any spoken word.

Listen with your heart
to hear everything
you need to know.

Everyday Magic

So it wasn't your best day.
They can't all be.

There will always be
moments
you wish
you'd done better -
just see them as
chances to learn.

If the wild ones
or the lost patience
or the inner critic
get you down,
just take one look
out the window.

Everyday magic in
a tree full of stars.

What's On My Mind

What's on my mind
so late tonight
is sure and clear
and refuses
to lend itself
to poetic turns.

These words are begging
to be heard aloud, to be spoken
just inches from your very mouth,
silence breaking with the dawn.

And with the new day
a whole new world.

Ain't Talkin' 'Bout the Weather

Enough with the
cold grey days.
I'm tired of wearing
all these layers.

Winter's solitude be damned.
Turn up the heat.

Bring on the bare skin
and beads of sweat,
playful winds that tangle my hair
and sneak up under my skirt,
summer sun's kisses
over every last inch.

It's time for a change in the seasons.

That Kind of Day

Today is a be still kind of day.

A watch and learn kind of day,
a wait and see kind of day,
a lay low and let go kind of day.

A trust your knowing,
heart is glowing,
love is flowing - ever growing -
path is showing,
fear is slowing
kind of day.

Go Easy

Go easy.
Go easy on yourself.

Take care with your bleeding heart.
Offer comfort as you would
to a crying child; use the
calm, soothing voice,
strong and reassuring.
Have compassion for
the parts that burn to ash,
they are equal to the parts that soar.

Take care with your wild mind.
If your thoughts tend to stray
toward the things you don't want,
to the place where fear resides,
coax them with a gentle hand -
even for the thousandth time -
back to love's side of the road
where things turn out right.

You are learning.
Be patient.

This is hard.
Go easy.

Grateful

For piercing sunshine in a clear blue sky,
crisp morning air and chirping birds,
lakes that move, free of their icy cover...

For walks to school, short strides and long,
crossing guards and curious little minds,
other families that look like ours...

For this dull job that keeps us fed,
even the ache blossoming at my center
because it means I am alive...

Thank you.

Absent

the words won't come today.
i'm not here to feel them into being.
the second hand clicks,
moving toward another day.
perhaps tomorrow i will return
and the words will come with me.

Sunday Morning Melodies (and a note)

I came here knowing full well.
I asked for it.
But it feels even more raw
than I expected.

Every pick and strum
coaxes to the surface
the longing that always
hovers just beneath,
a soundtrack
for the flickering reel of
memories and dreams
that streams in the background
of my every waking moment.

The ache is overwhelming.
Were I alone I would
drop to my knees
imploring every god in every heaven:
Please, please!
How long must I stand in this fire?
How wide must my open heart gape?

I can only trust
the answers will come
and try not to despair
in the meantime.


**A note on this poem: I did not want to write it. I wanted to write today about anything but the state of my heart this morning. I begged and bargained with myself to shut it down, to find something -anything - else. I finally surrendered, thinking I would write it to try and let it go, but I did not want to share it here. I felt embarrassed that I was being toppled by the same fears and feelings for the thousandth time. "Why haven't I come further than this?" was all I could think. A few hours and a few hundred tears later, I'm posting the poem, having remembered (yet again) that accepting and being open with others about even the messiest parts of our utter humanness is vital to uncovering one's whole and authentic self. There is no need to try and escape or hide what is. Everything is just as it is meant to be. Heartache and all.

Signs of a Fresh Start

A good day's work
making a house a home.

A slow, hot shower
and honey lotion.

Slipping in between
crisp new sheets.

The hint of a smile
in the darkness.

My Very Own Spring

It seems like these endless days
of grey skies and cold rain
are keeping spring at bay.

But the petals and leaves
are determined to unfurl
despite the grim conditions.

When they arrive
they will be even more beautiful
than anyone remembered.

Just you wait and see.

Sure as the Sun

I am ten feet tall today.
Sure as the sun
and rising just the same.

I am ready to speak this white-hot truth.
Deliver it with precision,
land it squarely where it counts.

My voice won't shake

even if my heart pounds.

I am not less than.
I am more than ever.

New Moon

Go, now, it is time.
Set your intentions,
plant your seeds,
grow your sacred life.

Rise up with passion,
move forward with confidence.
New beginnings, meant for you,
are ready and waiting.

The heavens align this day.
Have no fear of failure or success.
The fiery new moon has come
To set your life ablaze.

The Sun Within

Thank you steady morning rain;

you wash away the stories
of lack and loss and hopelessness
which hold no truth
and are not welcome here.

Thank you brilliant lighting strike;
you split my heart wide open
making room for love,
for promise and possibility,
for manifesting miracles.

Thank you rumbling thunder roll;
you urge my soul to trust
in the power of the unseen,
constant movement and becoming
always happening just beyond.

A stormy morning is a beautiful thing
when the sun within still shines.

Dreamland

From rain-soaked morning
through sun-dried afternoon
to wind-blown evening,
this day has worn me out.

Sleep beckons early,

and I will gladly give in,

hoping to revisit

last night's magical first.

A dream within a dream,
vivid and intense,
between real and imagined
the line faded away.

The Pull

I know how it feels
to walk right up to the edge,
to stand there on the brink
only to turn back again.

It can go on for ages,
this hesitant dance,
propelled one moment,
retreating the next.

But the pull is relentless,
and each time you return,
toes to the line,
you stand a little taller.

Until one day...

Whether you take a triumphant leap
or you tumble over the edge
because your knees buckled in fear
at that last split-second, no matter.

You are one of the precious few
to answer the call of the soul.
Awakened, you will fly;
revel in your one true life.

My Morning View

The oak and I stretch up together
toward the heavens this early morning,
the light in my eyes enough to burn
through thick grey skies above.

Here I feel the presence of the past
and find comfort in the thought
of eighty years of spirit come before.
I am not the first nor the last to wonder here.

I am grateful for this place to ground my feet
while my eager heart runs wild.

Success, Redefined

I did it all, young, and well.
The "good job," the husband,
One white picket fence, then another.

I marched dutifully forward with the crowd,
Building some hollow version of a life.
A colossal monument to emptiness.

As I tear it all down
In search of passion and fulfillment,
Many see a backward slide.

They're not exactly right or wrong.
Moving forward in truth can feel backwards
If one goes against the crowd.

My moving forward feels more like backing away.
Sidestepping up onto the bank,
Creating distance to gain perspective.

Backing away to higher ground,
Out of the mindless stream of unconsciousness,
Toward a place of meaning, connection, purpose.

I don't know what I'll find out here,
But this backward forward motion feels right and good.
Success, redefined.

Alone

I can do this.
I have, I am, and I will.

Not just this new bit of time.
Nearly a year now
I've done it all on my own.

Hauled myself over mountains of decisions,
Swam through oceans of explanations,
Fought off wild beasts of fear and doubt.

I thought it would be enough.
(It's enough for me.)
I thought I had proven myself.
(I've proven it to myself.)

But still...

I'm not afraid to go it alone.
I know it's worth the work
and the journey never ends.

Although company would be nice,
not just any warm body will do.

But if he can match my spirit's stride,
and show me the universe in his eyes,
we can learn to be alone together.

Bend and Sway

I used to always need to know.
To have the answers.
To be sure.

More often, now,
I can bend and sway
with the uncertainty of it all.

Oh, there are times
I still want to scream:
"Just tell me! What's going to happen?!"

But more often, now,
I can ride that wave
back to the place of just being.

The place where I don't force the answer,
but wait for it to arrive, fully formed, in due time.

The place where I trust life unfolds as it should,
and resist the urge to meddle with the divine.

The place where I just sit, vulnerable and open,
comfortable with the pause and the space between.

A Matter of Perspective

Yes, it's old. (Or is it well-loved? Vintage?)
And yellow. (Or is it daffodil? Sunlight?)

Depends on how you see it.

How I see it is this:
Deep and long and filled with
steaming hot water,
with room to uncurl limbs,
and rest and soak and dream.

I did it all today,
and more.
A Day In The Life
like no other before it.

Yes, it was hard. (Or was it character building? Experiential?)
And unfamiliar. (Or was it exploratory? An adventure?)

Depends on how you see it.

How I see it is this:
Just like the old bathtub -
perfectly imperfect,
as it is meant to be,
and mine, all mine.

Bring on tomorrow.

Still, and Yet

Still:
The stars a bit muted, but always,
my moon.

Baths and books at bedtime,
my boys.

Full no matter the miles,
my heart.

And yet:

The clock sounds different,

hanging on this wall. 

The sunlight slants a new angle,

moving across this floor. 

The possibilities feel utterly endless,

living in this moment. 

Discoveries abound, within and without.
One tiny, brilliant adventure after another.

Thirty Days, Thirty Poems

In celebration of National Poetry Month, I am challenging myself to write a poem each day in April. I like the idea of pushing myself a bit, and I am curious what will be collected here at the end of the month. Will there really be 30 different poems or will it end up looking like the same poem written 30 different ways? Time will tell...30 days to be exact.

For more on National Poetry Month, visit www.poets.org, a website from the Academy of American Poets. And check out this year's poster while you're at it. She's a beauty.