Wind carries Autumn’s song
and I am crawling out of a nightmare
Insides churning widdershins
thoughts grasping for a forward pull
Have been to the edge,
touched the volatile
Birdsong breaks solemnity
I catch a ray of light.
(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson
Last September, I was in hospital fighting
through a life threatening condition.
I penned this there. Image my own.)
Open to healing –
create a space for inspiration
delve into the subconscious
Enter with pure intentions
ignore limited capabilities –
no offerings are meager –
Embrace new starts
with faith in ability –
be spurred into action
Self holds the answers
creative expression is key –
no expertise required.
(Open to Healing first appeared here in August, 2015.
Edited for this post. Art my own)
Burrs of misadventure cling
I am not beholden to them
Progress, not always visible
requires breathing room
Tenderness heals wounds
patience guiding movement
One by one, I extract the hooks
sigh with each deliverance.
(Image my own.)
Some memories
too dark
lie buried
beneath this hide
Secreted
to forgotten chambers
I obsess over ideologies
crave peace
Only an archeological dig
can set that dream in motion.
(Tuesdays I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson.
Image my own.)
Raised in a battlefield
quantity doled out
in abuse, quality
not yet defined
Now I write myself
out of the darkness
each chapter
an uphill climb
Page by page
reconciliation
no shortage of words
value between lines.
(Image my own.)
Rebellion rages in my veins, Dreamcatcher,
so tightly wound I have blocked hope
I want to be good – a good girl –
like that man of God says
but his preaching ways violate
prophecies a cover for sin
and I am so sullied that I fear
love will distain me.
How did I get here, Dreamcatcher
childhood a lost notion –
I try to minister to the past,
but Father’s sermonizing possesses
even in death, his will a barricade
I need guidance to help me emerge
I’m an unreliable navigator, Dreamcatcher,
oppression’s familiar, no high able to release me
suspicion of promises nauseates
I’m tired of facades – good girl facades –
locked in this nightmare
won’t you please help me out?
(For Eugi’s Weekly prompt: dreamcatcher. Art my own)
Erasing the past –
collecting ash with chopsticks –
infertile practice
embrace, learn, and recreate
we are clay – artist’s magic.
Evening beckons
sun’s fiery glow
mocks my unrest
I am knee deep
in river’s flow
no more than
sediment beneath
human craving –
Earth’s healing
a welcome touch.
Adept at uprooting,
conditioned to follow chaos –
know my place there.
Kindness unsettles –
each ray piercing
cracking the crust
unleashing a prism
both painful and joyous –
legacy of dysfunction.
(Poem from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image from personal collection.)
Midnight
and moon casts an eerie light
shimmers of white-kissed fields
Headlights off,
I pause to contemplate the glow
endless skies here beyond city limits.
A herd of deer graze
ignore the hum of idling motor
celebrate the lunar flood.
What drove me here,
I cannot say; perhaps clouds
relentless in February skies.
Or maybe it was another pull,
a knowing, a grace, calling me
to open spaces – an offering
Surreal this suspended moment
stars dispersing sombre greys
tides of emotion releasing
I am transported,
uplifted, encouraged –
Heaven’s stellar promise.
(Inspired by a midnight ride and Eugi’s Causerie prompt of the week: stellar. Image from personal collection.)
One Woman's Quest 