Three-Season Girl November 13, 2010

For the briefest of moments
With new eyes I see
The white winter sky
As bright and pretty.

With wise trees standing
In the in between
All pretenses dropped
Crisp and clean.

I marvel, enraptured
By the peace found there
In the quiet simplicity
Courageous and bare.

My life a stark contrast
Rarely coming to rest
Scheduled and chaotic
An organized mess.

Every now and again
I try to pare it down
To make empty spaces
For me all around.

But like my kitchen table
And my dresser top
Clutter sneaks back in
The noise and the slop.

And I think I must like it
‘Cuz I can’t make it stop.

With a blink of my eyes
The fresh perspective’s gone
No longer captivated
The sky is grey and dull.

The silence of winter
Soon feels so wrong
Oppressive and heavy
Unbearably long.

Though maybe there’s a lesson
To be learned from the seasons
The evenly paced circle
Might be for good reasons.

When I’m discontent
I make the pendulum swing
One extreme to the other
It’s not a good thing.

The lead of Mother Nature
Maybe I should follow
Creating beauty
Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall.

Or maybe I should quit trying
To be something I’m not
I’m a three-season girl
Planted in the wrong spot.

I Was Woken November 7, 2010

Strange little vibrations
Deep inside
Angels, hard at work
With me abide.

Next to my heart
A patched up mess
Eight tiny pieces
Removed from my breast.

While they flutter
What will they decide?
Make me healed?
Or let me die?

Will I pass?
if this is a test.
Is my faith rock solid
Upon which I rest?

Fourteen days
Two weeks, too weak
To stay bright
When I feel bleak.

Trying to hang on
To the hopeful notion
For a good purpose
I was woken.

Sage Advice November 7, 2010

“Be here,
be now.”
What does that mean?
Where?? How??

A difficult feat for the multi-tasker.
One thing at a time
Spells disaster.
I can do more, faster and faster.

Body moving on auto-pilot.
Mind traveling,
through time and space.
Spirit in yet another place.

Skillful escape
from the dull and mundane
Whether in, or out
of the throbbing pain.

The present moment
moves slow as molasses
Thick. Dark. Suffocating.
Oddly sweet, nauseating.

I feel discomfort
So ill when at ease.
Enough of the stillness
my left brain pleads.

“Take a moment
and breath in deep.”
Then unused muscles
ache for a week.

It hurts my chest
way up to my shoulder
Filling my stomach
with air like a boulder.

Sending up flames
where quiet fires smolder
I prefer shallow breathing
even if I feel colder.

“Don’t worry, have faith.”
Don’t worry, I’m not.
I’m just totally preoccupied
by this damn little spot.

If I cry because I’m scared
Does that mean I lack faith?
Or am I honoring my feelings?
I can’t keep it straight.

Speaking of “feelings,
not right or wrong,
they just are,”
goes the song.

Still I scramble to find my footing
I teeter and I totter
Between feeling my feelings
And smothering as they’re hotter.

Should I keep my mind right?
Hold tight to my bravado?
Is that The Secret
to a happy tomorrow?

Should I celebrate my tears?
or shove them away?
What is the answer?
Maybe I should “pray.”

Sage advice,
gently given to me
The power of prayer,
a great mystery.

And it’s a novel idea,
me talking to You.
I rarely think of it myself.
It’s crazy, but true.

How do I do it?
My thoughts a riotous mess.
And hearing the small, still voice?
An impossible quest.

But “God is,
and all is well.”
This the one thought
between me and Hell.

You’re the master Spin Master
Who can make two wrongs right.
Wrapping each darkness
with loving light.

Holding me tenderly
through the long night
Even when I struggle
with all of my might.