Tag Archives: self-love

Torn Asunder

Posted on by Standard 2
River bank collage in gold and purple: Photo by Noelle

River bank collage in gold and purple: Photo by Noelle

I did not understand the loss
Not the switchbacks in direction
Nor the unfulfilled need

I did not see the change
Or the push of the envelope
The strain to see

I hated the destruction
Crushed and laid barer
Than the hull without its seed

Down to bone you left me
Naked and exposed
Winds of confusion whipping me clean

Standing in dirt
Vines sprung up, wrapping
My naked bones with leafy tweed

Vines bore flowers that brought the bees
That pollinated my blossoms
With your divine beads

Which grew ripe and colorful fruit
That attracted the birds that took up
Nests in my mind to feed

Laying eggs of inspiration
All babies learning to fly
And then I knew I did see

Such a deep appreciation
For having been torn asunder
Destroyed and sanded to a reed

I was never the hull
Always the seed
And in muddied dirt You and I grew me

Rain

Posted on by Standard Reply
Image re-posted from The Mind Unleashed Facebook page

Image re-posted from The Mind Unleashed Facebook page

Rain falls hard drains tick and rattle
Branches whip the window so bold
A frenetic heart beat, steady
In the closeness of the house
The sound is a chaotic symphony
That does not grace within
Tick and rattle, pitter patter

Cracking thunder
Light washes a dark field
Water rushes the stones
My chest fires back an adrenaline shot
Deep into my vessels it flows
Who is a storm now
My belly creaks
My breath shutters
Tick and rattle, pitter patter

Shadows dance
Trees sway, not lovers
More women thrashing wheat
In fields of silver rivers and
Matted grass
Leaves stick to the pane
While rivulets swing around them
Wild Celtic women
Dancing around a leaf alter
Tick and rattle, pitter patter

I am the rolling thunder
I am the relentless rain
I am the mad lightening that strikes the heart
And jolts my spirit awake in the
Wildness of an eternal dark
A mighty storm
Tick and rattle, pitter patter

Alphabet Soup

Posted on by Standard Reply
Hidden River: Photography by Noelle

Hidden River: Photography by Noelle

After their all gone, I find I’m still here
Bound to earth a regular oak in the field
Captured in this moment a
Dog with her bone
Even the clock ticks slower than a
Frost’s melt
Goaded by the weight of
Hampered grief in my chest
I stand in the quiet, deciding?
Jump back in or dally
Kicking the cat
Love is at the center of all this, even as
Misery runs me down in
Narrow alleys that smell of
Old fish and over sweet
Poppies
Quit your begging at
Rama’s door, I say to the mirror
Salvation is in your
Tight belly – hungry for
Unity a
Volcanic sound blasting
With the power of
Excalibur
You are grace and beauty at the
Zenith of a transformation you command

This Abecedarian was created in the Front Range Writer’s Room hosted by Marj Hahne

Great White Crane

Posted on by Standard Reply

I feel the lapping at the farthest reaches of my mind from a stone thrown centuries ago
Cracking barriers like a dam giving way
It is more effort to hold in, than to break loose
I have nothing to hold onto
Bits of sand and dust
Everything to give
What is this resistance really?
Rubber band girl
It is plain to see that with what goes out only more floods in
A dam letting loose a rivulet that becomes a stream
A river to a great delta water course gushing into the bay
That opens further to an even greater ocean
There is no purpose to these chains that bind when I have only love to give
Let it rain until the floods have washed even the mud away from my feet
I walk freely in the reeds, a great white crane

Sandhill Cranes: re-posted from Bing photo of the day by Patrick Frischknecht of Aurora Photos

Sandhill Cranes: re-posted from Bing photo of the day by Patrick Frischknecht of Aurora Photos

Little Gem

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Re-blogged from Enchanted Nature Facebook Page

Re-blogged from Enchanted Nature Facebook Page

“There’s a dark side to each and every human soul. We wish we were Obi-Wan Kenobi, and for the most part we are, but there’s a little Darth Vadar in all of us. Thing is, this ain’t no either or proposition. We’re talking about dialectics, the good and the bad merging into us. You can run but you can’t hide. My experience? Face the darkness, stare it down. Own it. As brother Nietzsche said, being human is a complicated gig. Give that old dark night of the soul a hug! Howl the eternal yes!”

Stuart Stevens

Kintsukuroi

Posted on by Standard 2
Dead leaf beauty. Photography by Noelle

Dead leaf beauty. Photography by Noelle

Engulfed by grief I am driven to my knees, until back bent I am little more than a sapling in a hurricane.

Raging, fists to the sky with hunger for death in my heart I pace the hours certain of Divine betrayal. I am Shiva, Goddess of death. Blindly I plot tales of woe poor sirens must be calling to me from the deep. What wretchedness creeps into my soul as I tediously survey my faults, mistakes and missteps; no less a miser at his ledgers. There is no light. I am crawling in gravel up a mountain with no visible peak, but miles of trails that lead no where. I am confused. I am deluded. I am lost.

Still. Still. Time moves grief as a plowman’s mule. Bloodied knees always heal.

All wisps of smoke curling up into the ether now. Formless fog fading down the river of my life. The moment the last breath left my lungs it was already dead and gone, buried as my ancestors in dirt holes. Air fills the vacuum of my fading past, sweet and new.

When did I leave the bridge? What was the step that took me to the other side?

Kneeling to my sorrow now I dance to my joy. Swirling round and round free as the leaf floating on the current. The sorrow has ripped out my moorings it would seem. I drift with the river and worry not where it goes. I have already been where I could not go. With the hunger and vigor I gave freely to my rage I embrace the beauty of my life. I run with pounding heart captured by the power of my body no longer weighed by death and dark shadows. The mountain has gained no peak, but a fool’s laughter is heard along the trails.

Life, anyone’s life, is an endless sea of choices. Sing my hardy voice of love or hear it crack in the silence to a whisper.

Spit and shine, tarnish be gone. I am liquid silver, glinting in the sunlight.