Meanwhile, I Keep Dancing

Song of Wet Stone When the rain comes to the shore, watch the rocks they transform revealing their shy colors rust reds and treasure map browns sea teals and leaf greens watch the rocks watch the girl stumbling slowly along the shore eyes seeking picking up, greeting loving each stone in turn slick stones, slipping into her pocket treasure her hands roll the new precious things round and around blessing the seeker And then! one large stone twisting blue of the sea dancing kelp green this is a mermaid's heart, it sings from the deepest deep mine! Thinks the girl, rolling it between cold pale hands and then she notices between her fingertips, sheltered from the rain the wet skin of this mermaid gem begins to dry the wild life evaporating away leaving grey blue grey green grey stone shock and bewilderment out come the rest from her pockets all warm and dry their magic gone Watch, as this child sullenly

Stone and Foundation I am of the green grass in Baltane time I am of the stars in the sharp cold of Imbolc I am the dream of flowers in Ostara's hour waiting, warming seeds, eyes blinking open I am the-forever-becoming a spinning whirling snake eating it's own tail creating from destruction Rock of fire, rock of time shapes of whirling early mind contort the fabric of earth all'round in this sacred circle found only silence, stilled the birds sunlight slant and shadow words on this center stone are heard whispers distant that will be learned I found you on a somber stroll I found you though I did not seek you, no I found you like a treasure lost and here I sit, student, upon the moss I fought my way here, in mud worn hiking boots I lost my way here, tripping over roots no direction, no need, just discovery made I sought an escape from my homemade mundane The sky held a storm at bay charcoal dark, splattering rai

I know it isn't actually the 11th, that technically I'm cheating. I've decided to use old poems I have written over the last few months to populate the days I missed. Guilty, but only a little bit. I have discovered for myself, that if a rule I make doesn't help me achieve what the rule was set out to do, question the rule. Break the rule. And now, for your reading pleasure, the past. ---------------------------------------------------- The Walker in the Wood My feet know where to go, though my head I leave behind heavy a treasure lost at the bottom of the world The path is icy, early November the light between the stark branches like an elegant lady of a manor house floating, distant a shard of warmth falls upon my cheek, and in that moment my chest can expand my feet know the path and like grim foot soldiers they lead me in into that wood Early in the week my lifeboat was turned over, and marooned I went flailing about sa

InstaHell I lived my own personal Hell today I set it up for myself chose to try my hand at Instacart took the plunge, why not, a girls gotta eat chose a 30+ item shopping list as my first, in a store I've never been in  at peak shopping time how innocent I once was, two hours ago... dodging up and down aisle's retracing steps moving my mini-cart out of the way of other frantic, stressed shoppers seeking, oh I was seeking the last item on the Priority list: Brach's Easter Jelly Bird Eggs

Candied Orange Peels I feel like a mad scientist concocting and inventing some rare-never-before-seen thing I chew and slurp on orange flesh mixing sugar, cinnamon, cardamom, cloves heat it up! Why not!? Set to simmer, leave to do it's thing tasty, chewy, gooey orange/chai creations await my eager mouth Fancy candy makes me feel fancy

Shift/Reset Listen that singing, in the trees as the wind moves through that is your mind letting go

April 7 th Caretaker When I was born, into this female body I was told you will take care of others You will love, and give you will smile and always be happy because the world is dark, and you must lift up those around you connect to those around you that is your purpose and I said yes because I wanted to belong, and I signed with blood along the dotted line for 30 years I discovered what that meant and how it would weigh, how the fine print on that promise would go on and on for pages how critical that Authority voice would be, if I chose to be “selfish” this Agreement was my Bootcamp where rebellion was met with harsh words and rigorous punishment broken I was broken down and pasted back together into a mold of a Perfect Lady a Good Girl understanding supportive bright healer welcoming teacher and anything else I would self-flagellate away I was very good at punishing myself My rebel never left, though and her voic

Transparent Put your brush down woman leave your transparency exposed pause your paints of uncertainty  just for this day welcome the sun through this open face to cast rainbows against the wall you look to fall in love with another like you, seeking to love yourself through another lens

April 5 th Necessary Containment What is the shape my roots take? I am pulled up, structure gone weak and limp, my green body sagging however Place me in water, by the window even in this liquid limbo, I am revived The Irish Woman An c aí lin, l á hbra í onn s í “T á im br ó n bean T á im br ó n orm t á im br ó n orm T á im br ó n” (The girl, she speaks/ “I am almost a woman, I am sorry, I am sad, I am almost”)

April 3 rd Kintsugi In Japan there is an art to loving what is broken a chipped bowl is not thrown away but filled in with gold it's history shining through I have one such object in my life A tattered jean button-up shirt faded on the shoulders fraying and paint-stained my mother's shirt my college stage makeup coverup this light and airy friend that became my security blanket at Blues Recess, a dance get-away where I stripped away inhibitions bared skin and soul and love you wear the years with such grace I cannot bear to let you go yet You, who have waited many long years in the dark of a sewing project “someday I'll fix that” bag fly! Into this uncertain time Here are roughly made wings imperfectly NOW and HERE I yearn to feel you on my skin a kind touch, motherly reminding me I am not broken just waiting for renewal

Self-Care Languishing half in morning sunlight tongue curving around her paw in gorgeous arcs the small black cat that shares my room takes in the surface of herself I take her in, between pushups sit-ups, stretching, dancing loving the cinnamon halo of her in the sun Soft thoughts to such a soft friend my own thoughts of myself often feel harsh not enough forgetful lazy too big thoughts Cutting Words directed at the soft places I wish for words of sunlight guiding me, opening and revealing to soothe and lick and clean all of that crude I catch in my hair as I go We go daily into the maelstrom of menacing society expectations of impossible success breaking our fingers and backs against the concrete wall of Words we break, our outsides seem flimsy “If only I had that product, that person, that life, then I would be stronger. Better. Happier” “Care” becomes the switch, the stick, to beat the detestable away or “Care”

National Poetry Writing Month April 1st 2020 Getting back onto this old blogging website, I'm really impressed by the amount of writing I have here! The feelings are similar to going into the attic, discovering a dusty box that looks odd and very very familiar, and then opening it to treasured memories.  How exciting that I get to use this same box for the next writing challenge! For myself opening this box again in the future, this is a time of such uncertainty, fear, and worry. It is also a time of great love and solidarity between humans, strangers, for our whole nation.  It is a time of creativity.  This virus, COVID-19, will not beat us.  So on that note, onward to the challenge of this month! ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- April 1 st 2020 Journey I started off on a quest to find a sensation of trees and water and wind call it a walk, if you want to name it I like to name thin