i rise to sun dappled treetops to emerald eyes to soft rhythmic purrs to coffee-infused air to cool sheets to softness to light to love what a miracle it is to be granted another sunrise to feel my lungs swell, to sigh to know that i am clothed in this moment, grounded in its sweetness, charged to greet this messy world in the afterglow of glory… may i be a blessing then as i have been so richly blessed i rise to a new day like every day before and every day yet to come if the fates are willing to sun dappled treetops to emerald eyes to soft rhythmic purrs to coffee-infused air to cool sheets to softness to light to love
i have diver’s lungs from holding my breath for so long. i promise you
i am not trying to break a record
sometimes i just forget to
exhale. my shoulders held tightly
near my neck, i am a ball of tense living, a tumbleweed with steel-toed
boots.i can’t remember the last time
i felt light as dandelion. i can’t remember the last time i took the sweetness in &my diaphragm expanded into song.
they tell me breathing is everything,
meaning if i breathe right i can live to be
ancient. i’ll grow a soft furry tail or be
telekinetic something powerful enough
to heal the world. i swear i thought
the last time i’d think of death with breath
was that balmy day in july when the cops
became a raging fire & sucked the breath
out of Garner; but yesterday i walked
38 blocks to my father’s house with a mask
over my nose & mouth, the sweat dripping
off my chin only to get caught in fabric & pool up like rain. & i inhaled small spurts of me, little
particles of my dna. i took into body my own self
& thought i’d die from so much exposure
to my own bereavement—they’re saying
this virus takes your breath away, not
like a mother’s love or like a good kiss from your lover’s soft mouth but like the police
it can kill you fast or slow; dealer’s choice.
a pallbearer carrying your body without a casket.
they say it’s so contagious it could be quite
breathtaking. so persistent it might as well
be breathing down your neck—
I heard my first mourning dove this morning at my new house. When I lived in the city, they were regular residents on the power lines, nesting in the eaves. But here in the woods I had not seen one. I wondered if mourning sieves were just city dwellers. The following clip is something I found that speaks of the symbolism when a mourning dove happens by…
“Doves teach us that, regardless of external circumstances, peace is always a touch a way – within us – and always available. It is said that if a dove flies into your life, you are being asked to go within and release your emotional disharmony. The dove helps us to rid the trauma stored deep within our cellular memory. Doves carry the energy of promise. When inner conflicts are banished from our thoughts, words and feelings, goodness awaits.
The dove’s roles as spirit messenger, maternal symbol and liaison impart an inner peace that helps us to go about our lives calmly and with purpose.”
I must admit, I’ve been a bit stressed lately. Reduced hours at work, sheltering in, how long has it been? The days run together. My partner is having surgery tomorrow. Worry. It’s a silly niggling emotion, and what good does it do? What will be will be. Worrying just diverts me from the present moment. It causes me to hold my breath. I know what I need to do. Close my eyes in the fullness of the moment…and breathe. Hearing that dove this morning reminded me of that.
I managed just a few entries this week, but just enough. Just enough is in no way a negative thing. Some people might assume that it means I am settling, but there is an important distinction to my just enough…gratefulness and the peace in knowing that I have everything I need. I have a home that fits me just right, my health, family, friends, animals that depend on me and love me unconditionally, I have a job that pays the bills. Yes, I am grateful and my life is just enough.
And so, while I didn’t manage to write every day this week, what I did write was enough to craft this three-line reflection of the week that was. Each time I reread it I breathe in and sigh. “Peace is a touch away”…yes it is!
Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 12 July 2020
the hum of gratitude whispered,
the night’s embrace,
days like this happen once in a blue
A ReVerse poem (a practice I started many years ago) is a summary poem with a single line lifted from each entry of a collection of work over a particular timeframe and re-penned in chronological order as a new poem. Unlike a collaborative poem, the ReVerse features the words of one writer, providing a glimpse into their thoughts over time. I use it as a review of the previous week.
leaves bare their pale
undersides kissed by warm
breaths of heaven beneath
cerulean skies dusted creamy
white, the trees lean, softly
swaying, while lusty cicadas’
swelling swoons ache for
a tryst, a one-day stand before
depositing their progeny in the
clay to sleep for a decade or more,
nestlings on the wing twittering
squirrels chirping, life’s symphony,
butter yellow tomato blooms on the
vine, rose petals blanketing the ground
in fragrant crimson, sublime summer
days like this happen once in a blue
moon, sometimes after a storm,
earth damp, murmuring through
the soles of your feet…breathe,
breathe it in dear heart, for
you are born of all this and
more, eden pulsing through
your veins, divinity bursting
from the deep well of your soul
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