Beings Intertwine

 Today is my 46th wedding anniversary, though Barry and I met 50 years ago. I remain grateful...

Beings Intertwine

Little one cries deep tears.
There are no words
so she is tenderly held
in loving arms.
After some time she settles,
sighs those big sighs
we all feel after a big cry.
I breathe deeply,
all the way down to my toes,
soothing my nervous system.
I feel hers settle, too. 
I close my eyes,
feel my breath in tandem 
with hers.
She is so tiny and vast,
open and true,
pure and vibrant.
A few mornings later
I step outside 
to feel the morning air
and listen to birdsong
as I awaken.
I notice a bee buzzing 
in some flowers,
take a closer look,
and smile.
There, right there,
is the truth.
Like beads of water
on emerging blossoms,
emotions surface,
newness happens,
and beings intertwine.
Thank you, bee.
How grateful I am
that this is so.

In loving memory of  Barry
with so much love,
Sarah Carlson
June  30, 2025

 

Dear Little One,

Photo by Emma Carlson

Dear Little One,

As I breathe and soften,
settle into Health,
images of you 
visit in a sort of 
visceral slideshow.
I see you, feel you,
honor your wellness 
and your wounds.
Sweet child,
you should have been 
surrounded
by love and support when 
confusion occurred,
hurt happened,
fear surfaced.
The energy of your 
strength and grace,
there then and here now,
sparkle with triumph and truth.
I’ve got you now,
Dear Little One.
While l feel
the thoughtful shyness
 we share
as I write this,
 I know for sure that
your light,
 our light,
is pure 
            and brilliant    
                 and true.
Let’s relax…
 revel in the sea of Love,
 savor the comfort 
of this beautiful light
as it shines.

Sarah Carlson
June 12, 2025

You Are

 

 You Are

I sense a presence,
my eye drawn to the pines
that mark the edge 
of our woods.
And there you are,
sitting silent
        steady,
    serene.
The strength of being widens,
welcomes my awareness,
as you fly free
above.

Sarah Carlson
June 3, 2025

Everywhere All At Once

 Everywhere All At Once

I lay still,
though there is motion.
Golden yellows,
soft blue-greens, hints of purple,
and rich, deep blues swirl.
A bright white bursts forth,
widens in all directions
with beauty, purity, and power.
I see, within the eyes of my soul,
the brightness of me.
I feel bountiful and free,
soft and fluid,
robust and right.
This brightness is both in me
and beyond my bounds.
Everywhere all at once.
I’m able to embrace it
as it embraces me.
Its benevolent support
allows me to feel
whatever needs to be felt
with wild abandon,
absent of guilt or fear.
The sweet, tender child within
can stretch and smile,
relax and repose,
speak and spark.

Later, as I reflect
by a quiet lake,
though the light
doesn’t seem as intense,
I know it is there - always,
especially amongst the grays.
I feel soft peace,
        gentle flow,
        freedom
    and Love… still.

Sarah Carlson
May 18, 2025

Cherish

 Cherish

By honoring
having been forsaken,
times of unease
become opportunities
for reflection and growth.
A foundational trust in oneself,
and in the Divine,
burgeons without restraint
as instilled doubts dissolve.

As this integrates,
I think back to Otto,
just days after becoming a big brother
to Mabel.
A visit to the beach
on a clear, cold January day.
Accompanied by gentle waves,
quiet currents,
heart rocks revealed
this pensive, warm-hearted boy
strides into brotherhood
with gusto.
No doubts or concerns,
just joy.
The light of Love
shines, reflects, shimmers
as he adores her
right from the start.
And now,
as Mabel stretches,
discovers,
 flows in the fullness of life,
I feel all of that in me.

The antidote to having been forsaken
is to both cherish … and be cherished.
What a welcome shift
in the tide.

Sarah Carlson
May 1, 2025

To Be Seen

Photo by Emma Carlson

 To Be Seen

I see you, little one,
the wholeness
 of the universe
 within.
Earthly energy,
ocean rhythms,
flowing waters,
 stars by the millions -
actually within us all.
I see you seeing me,
a sparkling connection of
crystal clear love
from one to another
and right back around.
Once again I am honored,
and so very grateful,
to be seen
through eyes that twinkle
with intrinsic delight,
natural wisdom,
and boundless love.

April 23, 2025

Lifted

Lifted

Fog over the mountain
softens springtime snow,
obscures the valley below.
She heads down
a familiar trail,
makes her way
through the gloom.
Just a few turns later
she drops below the murk,
stops,
  smiles at the sights
and sensations.
So many memories
and miles skied,
so much history here -
from the very beginning
and still in the making.
Nearby trees
and distant mountains
start to glisten
as the sun creates openings
through
 the cloudy cloak.
Light seems to raise
that which weighs heavy
and she feels this also
within.
Lifted,
                onward
she
                goes.

Sarah Carlson
April 14, 2025

 

The Promise

 The Promise

                   Briny essence,
                   soft sand,
                   pulse of the waves,
               be they gentle or strong.
The simplicity of a spring walk
on a quiet beach
settles my being just a bit.
How challenging it can be to hold
truth, healing,
self compassion,
and empathy for others
while navigating dysfunction,
distortion, and disbelief.
I’m tired.
So I stop,
look to the horizon,
watch sun sparkles dance,
listen to the soothing sound
of waves that ooze
onto the beach,
and then recede ever so slowly.
I breathe deep into my body,
feel the promise
of the good that is,
of what can shift,
of the power of hope.
I don’t know what else to do
but take it all in
and believe.
 

Sarah Carlson
March 31, 2025

For the First Time

 For the First Time

A billowing shape -
dark grays and black surge
around the edges,
deep reds and maroons swirl within.
No need to ask what it is.
I know.
It’s anger.
And, it’s beautiful.
For the first time
 I can be with it… freely.
No fear or sense of wrongness.
Just acknowledgment.
Days later opportunity presents
and emotions burst forth
from my fathoms.
For the first time
I cry and wail and purge
the immensity of loss,
sorrow, and injustice.
What an awakening,
what freedom,
what power!
And later, I am guided
to a place of stillness and light
where my perceptions clear,
my soul settles,
 equilibrium is present.
For the first time I feel mothered
in the same way I, myself, mother.
I am cherished just as I am.
I breathe freely,
no smothering allowed.
Like a soft blanket
the Light of Maternal Love
spreads over me,
weaves through me,
and for the first time
I rest openly in the embrace of
this wondrous, restorative love.
 
 

Sarah Carlson
February 28, 2025

Wordless

 Wordless

Tiny Mabel snuggles in my arms,
breathes sweet baby breaths,
seems to meld into my chest.
I lean back,
close my eyes,
immerse in the gentle flow of
generational Love.
It billows slowly within me -
warm and wispy,
 light and lofty,
beautiful and boundless.
I am calmed as I calm,
held as I hold,
nurtured as I nurture.
In beginning to know her
I access parts of me
 anew.
The tender, pristine energy
of a one month old -
 soft, wordless reminder
  of how delightful it is
to love
and be loved.

Sarah Carlson
February 14, 2025

Dear Love

Photo by Emma Carlson

Dear Love

What a delight
to hold you close.
Just days old,
your gentle strength
sparkles clearly with love.
Your namesake,
my Nanny,
 held me
with the same caring arms
and softness of heart
as I held your mama
and your uncle,
hold your brother,
and now you.
What continuity,
what dear love,
we all share.
Mabel Elska,
Dear Love.
Welcome.

Love, Oma
January 11, 2025

 

Forever Interwoven

 Forever Interwoven

I step out into the coming New Year
and look to the sky.
My eyes adjust,
 Orion and the Big Dipper appear
in the vastness.
A shooting star streaks across the sky
and I smile,
 perceive the energy of you -
subdued, soothing, celestial.
A soft, quiet sparkle of Love.
I acknowledge
 the purity of my presence,
the brightness of my light,
the truth of me -
and us.
Here I am,
there you are.
Here you are,
there I am.
Forever interwoven,
the warmth and softness
of sharing life with you
remains with me,
comforts me,
gives me peace
as I release
and am released.

Sarah Carlson
January 3, 2025

Layers and Layers of Love

 Layers and Layers of Love

Trees covered with snow and rime,
though rigid,
have a downy softness
and speak of movement.
Low clouds in the valley
swirl slowly, expand,
and gently rise.
My attention widens,
 breath quickens
at the velvety striations
that stretch before me.
I breathe more slowly and deeply,
seemingly merge
with the substance, the essence
of what I see.
And then there’s Light,
right there in the layers,
right there in me.
My flow, my substance,
my essence,
my layers and layers
of Love.
I smile,
point my skis
down the trail,
and fly.

Sarah Carlson
December 11, 2024

Tenacity

 It's been a bit hard to write lately. I saw this along the road on a recent bike ride and stopped to observe it for a while.These words sort of surprised me as they emerged. I haven't written a rhyming poem in a while, but somehow this is what needed to come. 

Tenacity

Light, shadows,
structures made to climb.
Seedling, sapling,
trunk that intertwines.
Growth, decay
existing in a place.
One supports the other,
no need to erase.
If one stops to notice
there is a budding trust
in the tenacity of nature
that does include us.

Sarah Carlson
November 25, 2024

Wednesday, Nov. 6, 5:31 AM

 Wednesday, Nov. 6, 5:31 AM

I hear the news,
allow my emotions,
know I need to be outside.
I sit in my yard,
slip off my shoes,
feel the cool, dewy grass
beneath my feet.
All is calm and still
as the sky slowly lightens,
low clouds carry a soft hue.
I breathe
through it all
right down to my toes.
My breath  condenses
in the chilly air
as cardinals and juncos,
chickadees and nuthatches
begin to chatter.
The branches of a favorite tree
weave intricate patterns
in the morning sky,
their complexities somehow comforting
I anchor to hope and resilience and love,
knowing these have served me well
in confusing, conflicting times
along the way.
Sun is rising,
birds are singing,
my breath is steady and true.
In so many ways all is not well,
and in other ways
it genuinely is.
How fortunate we are that
diverse truths can coexist

        With love,
Sarah Carlson

That Which is So Free

 That Which is So Free

Things circle ‘round,
shift along the way,
provide opportunity to
see and feel anew.
I used to think that I
get in the way of my own healing,
even as I recognize that hope
has been ever present in my being.
The intermingling of self-doubt and resilience
has actually been a source
 of helpful confusion.
Like cairns that lead the way
 through clouds and congestion
to openness and new vistas.
Now I recognize
that it’s the effects of the smothering
from way back
that have been tripping me up.
As they wither and dissipate,
  breath, light,
truth, and love
widen so very freely -
simply there to enjoy, embrace,
and share.
From Aurora filling the sky with pulsating hues,
to joy-filled warmth of a cherished child,
to subtle softness of
a heart-shaped lichen on a mountain trail,
so do the truth of being,
the sparkle of love,
 the breath of life
undulate within and without - always.
Even as I write this, I feel my breath
 reach softly into my heart,
befriend my emotions,
and gently ground me
as I wait for words
that might capture
that which is fluent and free.

Sarah Carlson
November 3, 2024

The Truth and Beauty of the Moment

 The Truth and Beauty of the Moment

I step outside,
look to the north,
and wait.
My eyes adjust,
a pinkish light begins to appear
as evening clouds disperse.
Just a hint at first,
then more
    and more
        and more -
here and there
and everywhere.
It brightens and shimmers,
fills the sky
 and me
with wonder.
At first the wonder is -
could this be true?
Then quickly shifts to awe,
with an understanding that
sometimes there is no need to know
why or how or if.
I could rest easy
in the truth and beauty
of the moment -
just me and the breeze
and the silhouettes of trees
under a mystical canopy
 of Aurora.

Sarah Carlson
October 10, 2024

Soothing Lull

Soothing Lull

Sun slips behind evergreens
under a soft tapestry of layered clouds.
Kayaks slide quietly across a ripply lake
as blue herons soar, loons call,
crickets harmonize.
We suspend our strokes,
 gaze to the east,
await the moonrise
that is sure to come.
A hint, a peek, a growing glow -
cradled by gentle hills
the harvest moon climbs slowly
into a darkening sky.
We watch,
                 drift,
                                sit with what is,
grateful for this soothing lull
and the awareness
of widening reflection.

Sarah Carlson
October 1, 2024

Peaceful Wonder

 Peaceful Wonder

Barefoot on a beach,
 sand churns in the swash
and backwash,
as waves stretch ever higher.
I close my eyes and listen,
feel my rhythms blend
with the rolling waves,
 lively breeze
that stirs evergreens
on the rocky shore nearby.
Grounded and secure,
I breathe into my depths
and out to vastness of the sky
and the wide horizon.
Cool, briny water
  gently surrounds my legs,
shifts the sand beneath my feet.
Subtle and effortless,
my entire being adjusts anew.
I fill with a sense of peaceful wonder,
reminiscent of childhood
before wonder became doubt.
I smile with a knowing
that keeps on growing.
Though doubts still swirl,
they are gentle,
can be spoken if need be
 and released in safety.
Outside in,
inside out-
                 healing
                                 continues
                to unfold.

Sarah Carlson
September 20, 2024

Just Beyond Words

Dalvay Beach, Prince Edward Island National Park, Canada

 

Just Beyond Words

Every so often I find my way
to a place of stillness within.
Where comfort and love
are ever constant
and currents of truth gently diminish
 roots of doubt.
A place that is both center and peripheral,
where one’s essence radiates freely.
Where the Divine fills and enfolds
in a way that is both protective and permeable
and you feel buoyant and held.
It’s always there -
a place to remember
either when things get painful, rough, heavy
or to notice and welcome
times of peace and connection.
Like a pause by the ocean,
when you close your eyes,
                            blend with the rhythms,
                                        let your breath deepen
                                or widen
                                            or both.
Though this is an attempt to articulate -
it’s actually a place that
                        eludes labels
                                as it bobs
                                            patiently
                                                                        just beyond words.
 

  Sarah Carlson

August 15, 2024

I Believe

Photos by Emma Carlson

 I Believe

In a world riddled with untruth,
anchoring to personal reality is paramount.

On the way to a recent
raft trip on the Kennebec,
I feel a little uneasy
about running the gorge.
So I take some deep breaths,
allow myself to feel
whatever it is that’s real.
My being settles, unease drifts away.
I am both grounded and lofty
as we set off into the rapids.
What power and beauty has water
in its quest to find the sea!
Dynamic waves collide, curl back on themselves,
gurgle and sparkle in the summer sun.
Our guide knows just where and when
to drop into this frothy mix
for maximum safety and fun.
With giggles and shouts
we plunge and flow,
paddle and hold,
work together as a team.
Below the wildest of the whitewater,
we join the rest of our gang.
 Kayaks inflated,
children safe in their life jackets and helmets,
we set out once more.
More whoops and hollers,
smiles and delight,
three generations together,
 the river carries us onward.
As currents quiet,
I watch my grandson,
with his Dada at the helm,
snuggle in his Mama’s arms
and slowly drift off to sleep,
calm repose after such adventure.  

I believe in the energy and continuity of Love.
I believe in my experiences, my feelings,
my abilities, my writing, my wisdom.
I believe in how I navigate
both wild waves and revealing riffles
 to find healing, joy, and peace
within the intricacies of grief.
Essentially,
 I believe in me.  

Sarah Carlson
July 12, 2024

 

Twinkle in Your Eye

  Twinkle in Your Eye

Something draws me there.
Down the stairs
 to the very gate you went through
to play tennis
that Spring day so long ago.
I can’t go in because the door is locked,
but I don’t actually need to.
I sit for a bit,
start to quietly speak,
soon realize that no words really fit.
I listen…
to melodic songs of  birds,
gentle rusting of leaves,
calm cadence of breath.
I look over to the place
where I know you collapsed.
I sigh,
raise my eyes,
 notice how much the trees have grown
in the years since.
Then -
a warm memory of me
going deep for a backhand
during a mixed doubles tournament.
Reaching for the fence to stop my momentum,
but instead going right through a tarp
that hung for a door in those days.
I disappeared,
tumbled down the hill,
then struggled to get up
because I was laughing so hard.
I can see the twinkle in your eye
that appeared as soon as you knew
I was okay.
I feel a soft peace
all through this me that I am now,
the me that I know you saw all along,
that same delightful twinkle
ever present.

Sarah Carlson
June 30, 2024

Our garden wedding - June 30, 1979

 

Gentle Dawning

 Gentle Dawning

 
This morning,
in that time between sleep and wake,
varied thoughts and feelings
drift softly.
There is a wondering present,
“Why do I write? Am I heard?
Does it matter?…”
Then, birdsong takes over.
I feel an inner delight at knowing
some singers in the sweet serenade:
Red-eyed Vireo,
Tufted Titmouse,
Veery,
Eastern Phoebe.
(Thanks Maine Master Naturalist Program)
I listen for a bit,
then realize something else
is pulling at me, too.
 I sit up, glance out the window
to see a double rainbow
arch across a pinkish-blue sky
and the woods behind my home.
No rain,
only wispy clouds,
but for just a few moments
there it is.
And then I
    sigh
and smile
at this gentle dawning -
“Yes, I am heard.”
Thank you birds,
thank you sky,
thank you Health
thank you words that
flow on through.

Sarah Carlson
June 17, 2024

Slow Melt

Breiðamerkursandur, Iceland

 Slow Melt

I lay on a black sand beach
on the edge of the North Atlantic,
under a blue Icelandic sky
with family.
Every once in a while one of us
says something like,
“We’re at the beach…in Iceland… together…
in April … among icebergs…!”
The air currents near the ground
are gentle
 and I feel my whole self settle.
Grandson Otto
stretches his body along my leg,
continues to play with monster trucks
in the rocky, sparkly sand.
I turn my head to watch a chunk of ice
slowly rolling in the surf.
I listen and feel the rhythms …
waves, birds, seals, wind,
hearts, breath.
 The warmth of love
 spreads throughout my being.
His love, my love, their love.
I scan the beach and see
a wide array of
bergy remnants
glistening in the late spring sun.
What a journey they’ve had,
landing here in this beautiful place
of transition.
A slow melt,
unique to each,
that leads to possibilities
and a whole
new flow.

Sarah Carlson
June 16, 2024

A Loving Gift

 A Loving Gift

Not long ago,
on my birthday in fact,
Mama asked you this question
as we were having lunch -
“Otto, what do you love best about Oma?”
You looked at me
with such a tender expression.
Our eyes locked,
your body quivered  a bit,
and then your whole being
seemed to smile.
Thoughts softened to feelings,
feelings to the truth of connection
all within a matter of moments.
With your 3-year-old wisdom
you conveyed
so much more
than words could ever say.
I get it,
I feel it,
I know it.
I love you that much, too.

Sarah Carlson
June 16, 2024

Shift and Sparkle

 Shift and Sparkle

Early morning sunshine at 
Jökulsárlón Glacier Lagoon.
We walk the paths,
marvel at the slow-moving beauty
unfolding before us.
This lake, filled with meltwater,
carries icebergs that continuously break
from the edge of a glacier,
then tip and tumble,
shift and sparkle,
slowly make their way to the sea. 

Delightful variations in their color,
many shades of gray and striking blues,
are the result of varied temperatures and ice density.
Once part of a whole,
each has a life of its own.

Our time there has been
in my heart since then.
Yesterday I experienced a letting go
that feels connected.
For many reasons that are
part of my own story,
I carried quite a cumbersome load,
much of which I have gingerly set down.
My body led the way yesterday,
and now my heart follows,
as I cry soft, multi-hued tears
of release and healing.
I don’t know why my brother and my husband
are not here to enjoy our children as adults
or our precious grandchildren -
and I am.
Unbeknownst to me,
somewhere deep down,
a sort of nebulous guilt was present.
Though it has been a slow process to realize this,
glacial really,
I am in awe of how good and safe it feels
to float and flow,
 buoyed by yet another
 sparkly, heart-mending shift.

Sarah Carlson
May 23, 2024

Free Flowing Awe

Photo by Emma Carlson

Free Flowing Awe

Immense and incredible waterfalls -
Öxarárfoss, Gullfoss, Skógafoss, Seljalandsfoss.
But it’s Gljúfurárfoss that deeply stirs my soul.
The spring-fed Gljúfurá
drops over black lava cliffs
then seemingly disappears.
We follow the stream
through a narrow passageway
that opens to a misty, magical wildness
 we share with a few other travelers.
Someone offers to take what we later realize
is ‘the photo’ for this place,
upon a boulder in the cavern.
And we’re grateful so we return the favor.
But then we stay for a bit
to feel it, be in it,
literally soak it all in.
Otto explores the stream
with Dada by his side.
Mama (Emma) and I
 share a few more moments
 of free-flowing awe.
Perhaps it was a sort of
accumulated energy
 from all of the falls,
 the changes they bring,
and sharing it as a family
that cleared the way.
From the soles of my feet,
to the core of my being,
to the tips of my fingers -
I open to a beautiful rush of me.
This settles to a sort of awakening
as the power of my very own love,
so naturally extended to others,
permeates, saturates, circulates
 throughout my being.
I am in awe, still.

Sarah Carlson
May 20, 2024

 

Waterfall of the Ax River

‘Waterfall of the Ax River’:
Öxarárfoss, Iceland

In a land so different
from the one we call home
there is such vast openness and history,
both geologic and human.
On our first day
we make our way to
Þingvellir National Park
in our camper vans.
It’s been a long time with little sleep,
yet we are drawn to a trail
we’ve been told goes to a waterfall -
‘foss’ in Icelandic.
We start the short climb,
3-year-old Otto
 gleefully leading the way.
You can feel the dynamic energy
of the place, the falls
even before they come into view
 around a bend.
Öxarárfoss,
where the waters of the Öxará
cascade over ancient lava cliffs
 of Almannagjá Gorge -
the eastern end
of the North American tectonic plate.
We sit, listen,
let our travel-weary bodies settle,
and take in the beauty together.
After some exploring,
Otto climbs onto Mama’s lap
and soon falls into a contented sleep.
Dada carries him through a part
of  the rift valley
 to our homes on wheels.
Low clouds hang over
wondrous gifts that
delightfully  unwrap
in the days ahead.

Sarah Carlson
May 7, 2024

 

Opa's Love

Photo by Emma Carlson

Opa’s Love

I wish your Opa
could hold you close,
read and tell you stories,
go on adventures,
do all the things
we get to do together.
When you hear stories about him
I can tell you listen deeply
and that you are getting to know him.
Mama told me that yesterday
you spent some time
looking at the photo collage of him.
And that after a while you said,
“Opa is my friend, I love Opa.”
That made us both, Mama and me,
so happy.
Today I’ve been thinking a lot about
Opa’s love.
It was, and still is,
calm and cozy,
soft and  strong,
real and right.
I also keep thinking back to the solar eclipse,
when the first glimmers of sunlight
peeked out from behind the darkened moon.
How bright those beams were,
how we were all in awe,
how they made everything so clear.
Opa’s body died,
sort of went dark,
but those bright, clear, awesome
 beams of his love
are there for us all,
always.
You’re right, Otto.
Opa is your friend.
And he surely loves you, too.

Oma
April 14, 2024

Totality

Photo by Emma Carlson - Umbagog Lake, NH - April 8, 2024

Photo by Katherine Carlson - Sugarloaf Mountain, ME - April 8, 2024

 

Totality

Under a bluebird sky we settle in,
wait, watch, commune.
Atop mountains,
in valleys below,
on wilderness lakes
and birding trails
we raise our eyes together.
Same direction, same time, same reason.
Slowly, slowly
the moon’s silhouette
slides across a brilliant sun.
Curious shadows begin to spread,
then winds stir,
temperature drops,
birds and humans
quiet.
The sky holds both
twilight and night
as the pearly glow
of the sun’s corona
and spiky pink prominences
take over the show.
Humans below smile, gasp, giggle, hug,
let some tears flow.
Then - a glimmer of light returns
with a glow both soft and strong.
Like a stage spotlight
centered on absolutely everything
all at once
with gentleness.
We know we
saw what we saw,
though it was
as close to unbelievable
as you can get,
and still believe.
And, in truth,
the moon and sun
did not change -
our perspective did.
Gradually,
we all make our way back
to ourselves,
 our lives,
our homes
with a bit more hope and love.
 awe and awareness
billowing about within.

Sarah Carlson
April 12, 2024