that's mrs. mediocrity to you

water baby
fire girl
the way we fight until
you’ve boiled and i
am smoke and whisper

but that is never
the whole story
this lake is girdled
by fire
warming your center
scorching your shore

and there are times i need
to cool my toes
even as my fingers ruffle
the surface of your silence

we are held together by need
i may rage and you may rise
until we cancel each other out

build a dam and i
will burn you
cross the river
and smother my pride

a forest is built
on ancient couplings
there is no fresh start
blank slate
empty hollow

these seeds were sown
long before we came scrambling
to the surface
birthing tomorrows
blaring tenacity

twins of manifest survival

fueled by oxygen
and undertow

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Linking up with the fabulous dVerse poets for Open Link Night – join us!

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each one the embodiment

of sunshine

.

I’m off my game lately. Fighting off some sort of illness, complete with dizziness and vertigo, while also trying to function enough to get my work done. My routines are all off, my habits have been altered, my energy is low.

I remind myself, again and again, that this will pass.

Five minutes after this glorious sunset, the sky was dark. Twelve hours later, it was light again. Sunrise, sunset. And back again.

I was still in my studio working when my husband called me out to see the view last night. Perhaps he knew that I needed a break, (and a photo for today’s post). My dog sat in the front yard as I took pictures of the sky, probably wondering why.

Sometimes life is a struggle. A beautiful, messy, blazing struggle.

It’s a good thing we have glorious sunsets to distract us, remind us, soothe us.

The air outside smells of autumn. Gaggles of geese are making their way to warmer places.

Even when I feel like I am standing still, the world moves on around me. At least I am getting lots of reading time.

It seems October’s clouds have a golden lining.

i sat in a chair and watched the world spin down around me

(there was less burning than you’d think)

more potential than performance

i was prisoner and you were gallow

crazy loose turning noose

i did not fight you

(as if I had a choice)

and you had no reinforcement

smoke and ash floated down to earth

in a flurry of forgotten

(burned into my retina)

i could not touch my toes to earth

you offered this stool

that rickety ladder

a steep staircase of crawls

(i never moved)

and you never carried

i sat in a chair and watched the world spin down around me

.

an ending

a beginning

.

all tied up with a beautiful bow

.

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a photo from last autumn because i’m

a bit under the weather just now

.

and i’d rather be under this tree

.

we mark the passage of
time like it matters

your sand
my glass
our history

none of it can be claimed
owned
held onto

still
you extend
cupped hands
to a clear blue sky

trying to catch
the simple version
of this story

but sand becomes glass
and i see through you

this is the clearing
in the forest of forever

the sun warms my skin
even as it’s magnified

neither one of us
wants to burn

yet we lie here
singing songs
of ritual
and habit

until we’re buried
grain by grain

side by side

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Linking up with the fabulous dVerse poets for Open Link Night – join us!

Sometimes, serendipity is a beautiful thing.

It was a long week, a tough week, filled with learning new things, lots of work and a migraine that just wouldn’t quit. In fact, it’s still hanging around on the periphery. Pfft.

But in many ways, it was just another week, and I survived and today I am going over to my parent’s house with my brother and sister to help with a home improvement project.

So, I got up not knowing what I was going to post today, feeling a little logey (a word of my dad’s that always cracks me up), and I stumbled across this post on my facebook feed. I went and read it right away, because trust me, you never want to miss debi’s words (seriously, go now and read), and her post resonated with me so deeply and as I was reading I remembered this photo and suddenly, here I am.

I am just a bird. Not even a rare one, just a blackbird on a pole looking up at that big sky.

And yet, I can fly.

.

Here’s to the birds.

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(Thanks, debi.)

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taller than i

reaching for sky

.

in this crazy busy week that’s kept me working

head down, shoulders hunched

these stems

waving outside my window

are keeping me in smiles

.

when you can laugh at your own insignificance
then you begin to understand

the world turns and you turn with it
we are all cogs and we are all stars

it was never your job to be a beautiful flower
but always your promise to set seed

the future is a rhyme you cannot hear
written from the way you stand today

refuse to cower
refuse to break
refuse to be defined

the sky is the mirror of forgiveness
there is no reflection and no
perfect light

you can grow in the darkest of corners
stretch yourself out
be alive in the paradox of possible

the wind will take you
or you will melt back into
earth’s wide open arms

the rain will cleanse you
not of your sins
but at least of the dust you carry

the sun will burn you
and the moon will steal pain
from the beauty of your wounds

tomorrow is only an idea

and you’ve already had plenty
of those

hang on
hang on

let go

the release
will be

your nirvana

your white knuckles
have always
been bone

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Linking up with the fabulous dVerse poets for Open Link Night – join us!