What Does Healing Look Like

Photo by Chris Ensey on Unsplash

Healing looks like
making connections
between the past and
current behavior

Healing looks like
discovering
I'm a people pleaser 
and how pervasive that is

Healing looks like
finding I don't take compliments well
and learning to say thank you
and mean it
take it all in
breathe deep into the discomfort
and say, "yes," I can accept that

March to Destruction

A poem on the current state of the Earth...

The pain of seeing a failing earth
humankind in a constant march to destruction

It hurts my heart, so much anger, and division,
so much ripping apart, taking and never giving

I feel this sense of sitting at the edge
a sad song plays as the world goes up in ashes

I don’t believe the earth will go
We will go
We will perish, be the ones who become extinct

The earth will heal
It may take millennia but it will rise
beautiful and strong once again

Morning, time of awakening and appreciation

Every morning, I curl up on a big red overstuffed sofa and drink my morning latte'. I look out the window at the flowers and the trees beyond. These days this is my view through one of the bay windows. This morning a pair of hummingbirds were making their way through the garden. They've been here for a while now, enjoying the fruits of my labor. Their favorite flower is the crocosmia, the burst of red in the image.

Surrender to Grief

What happens when a life is filled with death
when the blanket of grief lays over our days
when the sun no longer shines
and the waters flow continuously

What happens when we surrender
sleep when sleep wants to come
quit trying to force it into a container
move when we want to move
stop the incessant need to produce

cease the endless struggle
slip slowly into slumber
sit silently in surrender
sing songs of celebration

in the silence we find comfort
in the surrender, we are held
in the opening
love finds us again

Grief

Grief
the quiet
where there used to be conversation
the emptiness
where there used to be connection, communion
the shadows
of what used to be
it's all the quiet, empty shadows
that haunt me
that leave me wanting
sinking my shoulders
drawing forth tears
for what used to be

A Night on Fire

Some nights run on forever, fire pulsing. The mind tries to swallow us whole. Last night was one of those nights. Below are the bits of poetry running me round and round. Note, I am not a danger to myself. Suicide is not an option. I saw and felt it with my son. I won't repeat the pattern. So, I journey through the pain of loss and love and trying to find my place in the world.

Alone again
like always
forever
never quite connecting
can't get comfortable
feel like the misfit
the square that doesn't fit
with the circles
or is it the other way around