The hope that somehow these words
will one day connect me with you
gives me the strength to allow them
to flow from me to you.
hold me in your embrace.
Show me a sign
that I have found you.
On my cushion this morning,
I reached my arms up to the sky
as if some being,
some divine parent,
would swoop down
and scoop me up.
I said, crying,
I’m ready to let go.
I’m ready to forgive.
I’m ready to move on,
I’m ready to heal.
Please help me.
Somebody must’ve been listening,
because this afternoon
I came across some TED Talks
on finding your life purpose.
I was inspired.
The tide turned.
I remembered who I was,
who I am,
and I felt a surge of great hope
for the woman I can be.
for the first time in forever,
I wanted to eat,
and I took pleasure in my food.
Taking my meal outside,
looking up at the great blue sky,
this life is full of possibility.
After my meal
I took out my journal and pen.
The twilight enfolded me
in its gentle embrace
as I wrote words of
praise and thanks
to the one who listened,
and the one who answered.
Today’s prompt asks us to create a poem by engaging with a strange fact, or an odd bit of history, or some obscure morsel of trivia. I tried. Really I did…I read some bits and pieces in all the websites that were linked in the prompt, but nothing really spoke to me, so here I am, just thinking I’m going to write something and call it a poem, because I can!
FACT: I want to know how long it will take to grieve
FACT: I’m tired today
FACT: I’m waiting for things to change.
FACT: I’m scared they won’t.
FACT: I’m not sure I’ll ever learn to trust again.
FACT: I still have hope.
It arrives slowly,
so slowly I question
if what I’m feeling is real.
But then it begins to build
until the feeling is so present,
that I can no longer deny it.
It’s a mixture of hope, of lightness,
of real pleasure, joy, relief
that things are changing,
After this harrowing, hellish time,
I emerge from the cave
of the deepest, darkest sadness I have known.
I stand naked, blinking in the bright light,
an infant newly born
into the life I was meant to live…
I awaken with new hope.
I feel grateful for simple things:
the sunlight spilling into my room,
the fact that I can eat, drink and be warm
in this home.
I realize that things are never as bad
as my mind would have me believe.
Oh my mind,
could you relax?
Could you just be for one moment?
I can accept you too, my mind,
in all of your neurotic obsessions,
I can still love you.
Maybe this is why
I awaken with new hope.
I realize that everything I am
is welcome, is free, is loved.
And now I can see the world
with these eyes of hope
and this life that is very, very good.
Can I trust?
Can I believe that this is all unfolding
exactly the way it’s supposed to?
What if I don’t?
I will walk around scared, anxious,
unsure, closed down, resentful,
If I trust,
I will walk with grace and dignity.
I will believe in possibility.
I will be open to the grace
that is already there.
I will be at peace.
I will see myself as guided and led
to the one destiny that is mine.
As I look at these options,
I think it’s time to trust.
I awoke this morning
with hope in my heart
and God must have wanted me to meditate
because I was awakened early enough
to sit uninterrupted.
I taught 45 people metta* today
and I am grateful
to have been graced by my teachers
in order to transmit the teaching.
I am a channel of the good medicine
that wants to come through
the vessel of my being.
It brings the deepest joy to my heart
to deliver what will help and heal.
After all these years I’ve learned
that the most beautiful things happen
when I relinquish control.
Therefore I commit to setting aside
the petty protestations of my lesser self
and dissolving into the profound wisdom
of what lies beyond my understanding.
Today, with hope in my heart,
I am excited for what is to come.