It was a good day today.
I found my pen,
I had time to write in
all the colors of the rainbow
and to behold the result.
Just looking at all those colors
made me feel happy and light.
I had time to be in quiet
in the sacred space of my heart.
I had time to go to the chiropractor,
time to go to the grocery store,
time to procure watercolor paper
and metallic calligraphy pens
from the art store.
I took the time to recognize
how incredibly blessed I am
just to be here.
In just a little while
I’ll leave to go to a dance class.
I’ll move my body
and feel the bliss of connection
with other dancers,
the energy we create
as we move and breathe together.
Ah, thank you.
Thank you Life.
some blessed quiet time,
a candlelit bath,
soft music playing,
then resting and reading.
A walk in the woods,
finding a perfect spot,
setting up the hammock,
resting, reading, musing.
Staring up at the trees,
breathing deeply, swaying,
writing out my heart’s desires.
A nourishing meal
and more writing.
moving every part of my body,
a shared experience in Nia class.
Back home, a shower,
and here I am, tired and calm.
It was a good day,
a full day, a day of self-care.
It occurs to me that many
such fulfilling days
will lead to a fulfilling life.
This tender heart
has been through enough
But Life says,
Nah. Get back in there.
You still have some time
left in the ring.
Since when did love become
a dance of two fighters
dodging one another’s blows,
finding a delicate balance,
waiting to see who will be knocked down
and who will be victorious–
both covered in bruises?
It is all so simple, really.
We see as much as we are ready to see.
We experience just as much
as we are capable of experiencing.
There is no limit to what we can
learn, make and do,
but we need motivation, desire, and courage
to find the strength necessary for expansion.
It means leaving the safe harbor
and setting sail into the unknown,
being willing to confront our own resistance
to stretching beyond what is familiar,
allowing ourselves to feel the fear of failure,
of looking foolish,
of making ourselves vulnerable—
and just going for it anyway—
knowing that just on the other side
of our comfort bubble there’s
a wide open universe waiting
for us to join it in this perpetual
dance of creation.
We spin out our thoughts
as the cosmos spins out new stars,
totally unaware of our magnificence.
Time to wake up and see what is ours,
to dance the dance consciously,
with joy, devotion, gratitude
and sheer delight!
I wish there were a way
to open my heart and sway
letting go of all dismay,
body breathing I pray,
arms reaching for the sun,
dancing until I’m done.
Is this dance just for one?
No, it has just begun.
There will be others:
Everyone in this world
will follow where others have twirled
like trees with leaves unfurled,
experiencing the ecstasy
of breathing utterly free
blessing the union of you and me,
and everybody, everybody, everybody.
If you have been following my blog, you know that most of my poems have no rhyme schemes at all…they are mostly free verse poems following musing and rumination and in general wanting to experience freedom from any creative constraint. Today, however, the NaPoWriMo prompt invited us to try out Skeltonic verse, and I took up the challenge. It’s good to step out of one’s comfort bubble every once in a while. Just on the other side of the bubble is our fullest potential, just waiting for us to reach it.
Today I danced.
It was an ordinary moment
just after lunch.
My son was (thankfully) napping,
my daughter was drawing,
my husband was watering the grass seedlings
and all was quiet.
Yes, just an ordinary moment,
except suddenly it was extraordinary.
Maybe it was the
the brightness of the spring afternoon sun,
the way the flowers were blooming vibrantly,
the way my daughter’s light step
reminded me of one of the fairy folk
who has flitted through my dreams–
and suddenly I needed to dance.
Outside on the patio
next to pots of blooming pansy,
alyssum, begonia, and impatiens
I put on my favorite Scottish band,
the Tannahill Weavers,
music bursting out
from a little Bluetooth speaker
perched on our high brick wall.
The pipes, the guitars, the drums, the vocals
stirred my heart
and then my body
and suddenly I was leaping and swirling
and spinning and whirling
and remembering why I love dancing.
My daughter looked up at me
with such love in her eyes
and told me as I danced
You are my sunflower.
This means I love you.
I kept dancing,
and I felt free.
It is so glorious to be alive.
This is the time of year
when the darkness is more apparent than the light.
It is a time when many struggle
with their own shadows
as if the haunting grows stronger,
more threatening with the waning light.
This is the time of year
when the natural world slows down.
the trees call their sap
deep into their roots.
Animals prepare for hibernation.
Let us take time to honor and welcome
the coming darkness
as a natural part of the cycle of life.
How could we know the beauty of light
if we were unfamiliar with our shadows?
And, don’t ask that the darkness leave.
Don’t press it to move on
with your impatience,
always thinking it would be better
if it didn’t exist.
Instead, open wide your arms
and then fling open the door to your heart.
Let yourself dance with the darkness.
There is beauty here, and music,
a different kind of beauty
a different kind of music
The beauty of an invisible kind of knowing
Music so subtle
you need to sit still and close your eyes to hear it.
This is the in-turning,
the time to look inwards
and acknowledge the balance of light and dark
honoring the two as different sides
of the same coin,
neither one more or less beautiful
than the other.