Tag Archives: nature

I Let Go

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The earth waking up all around me
The breeze stirring all the young leaves
and blossoms of every tree.
People cheerful and happy
Light everywhere,
undeniable.
No matter how faithfully
I may have been clinging
to old skeletons,
When spring comes
I’m given hope
that the willingness to die
really does mean
a beautiful rebirth,
and somehow,
I let go.

I Came Close

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I spent the day in deep listening,
self-care
laid heart and soul bare
before daring wayfarers
who walk this path with me.
I danced with the trees,
looked up to the sun
reached out to the water
felt down to the earth
breathed in the wind
and out my fears.
I transformed from closed and scared
to fluid and light body
loving song through the forest
at top of lungs fearlessly.
To whomever says heaven
isn’t on earth:
I have something to share…
Today I came close.

The Way Flowers Awaken

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It never occurred to me
that this process could be at all gentle,
but now that it is slowly dawning on me,
gentleness is what I want.
I want to transform gradually,
wake up to the light
the way flowers awaken in spring—
when the ground softens and warms
and there is no other choice
but to blossom.

Another Poem (Gratitude)

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Before he dropped the bomb
I had a regular, consistent gratitude practce.
I recorded five things every night
for which I was grateful.
I had been doing this for years,
faithfully,
and had already filled multiple books
with my nightly gratitudes.
After he dropped the bomb,
I expanded my practice.
When my mind was telling me my life was over
and that I’d never be happy again,
I recorded twenty things every night
for which I was grateful.
I began to count the smallest things
as important…
the way the sun rose,
the way my child’s voice sounds,
the taste of soup,
the temperature of the wind.
I realized that those “little” things
are enormous in their beauty
and their presence.
I realized I could be more grateful.
I started to realize that happiness
is a choice I make every day.
I’m into my healing process.
I can thank him for dropping the bomb
and blowing my old life to bits
so that I could create a new life.
I’m still working on forgiveness,
but that is another poem.


Made It Through

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Spring was in the air,
so I threw open
all the windows,
rolled up my sleeves,
and got to work.
Load after load of laundry,
sorting through odd bits,
vacuuming,
tidying,
organizing,
cleaning…
so much cleaning.
Kids got home
and we went out,
out to the forest.
We slogged through mud,
over streams
and fallen logs,
slippery stones,
yellow-green moss.
Back home, homework,
dinner, bath,
reading together,
then bed.
I AM SO EXHAUSTED
AND I THINK I MIGHT HATE
SINGLE-PARENTING
THIS IS NOT
WHAT I SIGNED UP FOR
Then I write this
stream of consciousness poem,
and soon I’ll write in my
gratitude journal.
Ahh, I made it through another day.


An Abundant Day

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I asked about abundance,
and I awoke certain of who I am.
I showed up at the school,
had a meeting with the principal
regarding my daughter.
My husband was there too,
and it felt good to be a team again,
in a co-parenting sort of way.
Back home I read an article about pleasure
and how to live a more pleasurable life.
I followed the guidance in the article
and chose to live the day in pleasure;
I decided to feel really, really good.
Afterwards I took a nap.
I woke up, had lunch,
ate a good meal.
I saw my therapist,
talked about turning a corner.
I got my kids off the bus
and we went for
an autumnal walk in the forest.
So much beauty everywhere!
We had dinner out
and the food arrived quickly;
It felt good to be nourished,
to be the recipient of so much good.
Back home my kids are reading,
and I’m writing about a beautiful day.
I see abundance as existing everywhere,
all the time.
It’s an inner state,
a mindset of plenty,
a feeling of gratitude
warming the heart.
Today I walked in wealth,
and tonight I go to sleep in thanks.

 

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨
Now, Spirit, I want to know about doing good work.

Fellowship In The Trees

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Grace brought me serenity
in the woods today.
I was surprised to come upon
some paintings on the trees
with plaques freestanding
and words
about human strength
and hope…
words about
going through the twelve steps
of recovery,
finding light in the darkness,
coming together
as a group
to provide support
to one another.
I thought of my own fellowship,
a weekly meeting
of souls who gather
to share their experiences,
to listen without comment
to the experiences of others.
We left the grove of paintings
and walked our regular circuit
in the almost freezing dusk.
Periodically I’d hug a tree,
and as I leaned against its length,
I looked up at its branches
and told it a bit of my story.
The trees listened and stood tall
and radiated their silent strength.
Back at the car, fingers numb,
children hungry and ready for supper,
I found myself looking forward
to my CoDA meeting
at the church tonight,
being with adults
who listen and hold space.
Then my son cut his finger
and had to go to urgent care;
he hopped in the car with his dad,
who was just back from work.
I stayed home with my daughter
and remembered the paintings
and the words in the woods,
grateful for the
grace
provided me earlier,
grateful for the fellowship
in the trees.