Turbulence and calm... together

I had an experience recently which helped me understand that my analytical, metaphor seeking mind has been working overtime for quite a while. It will take some practice, I believe, to not strive for understanding so much of the time. I'm getting better at noticing things of this nature, a by-product of this process for which I am very grateful.

Here are two poems that I wrote that again have a water focus. The first one was written when I was in the thick of delving into the sadness of loss. The second came as I was working my way back out the other side - a direct result of one of those metaphoric connections that I experienced right after a polarity treatment. I remember biking by the outlet of Great Pond in Belgrade Lakes and watching the water pouring into Long Pond. It was loud and powerful, but then I noticed beyond the turbulent water there was a lovely moment of settling - and beyond that was stillness and peace. Both there together with everything in between... ever-changing...:)

Whitewater

Thunderous waves
crashing over rocks, fallen trees.
Powerful currents
going wherever they please.
Everything changes
when floodwaters roar through,
making it difficult to know
what to do.
Boundaries alter,
creating unrest and despair
and the need to reach out
to people who care.
It’s important to think, but
acknowledging what is felt
is the key to getting
the ice to melt.
Yes, in order to move
the water must flow,
and it always knows
the way to go.
Stagnation doesn’t work
in this dynamic world,
so feel the power, ride the waves,
let your self be unfurled.

Sarah Carlson

Feb. 6, 2008

Turbulence

Boiling, churning, scouring -
wihitewater ravages as it flows.
Bedrock tumbles, soil loosens,
roots become exposed.
Surging waters alter the
landscape and that place
is never again quite the same.
But the torrent
eventually settles,
provides relief for
saturated banks weakened
by the barrage.
As the raging subsides
the way opens and the
flow continues anew.
There can be beauty in both
turbulence and calm,
but still waters after a storm
reflect whatever goodness
that enfolds them.
Vigorous trees, tranquil hills,
silver lined clouds in
a radiant sky illuminated by
a gently setting sun.
A pristine world ready to be
treasured and enjoyed,
free from the
relentless turbulence
of what was.

Sarah Carlson

June 22, 2009

Quiet presence

I was a presenter at a hospice training this past weekend - again on the topic of rituals and good byes. I read several of my poems and it felt good and right. I'm going to post two that I read and another that I just found in my notebook. That Morning was written at a Hospice Education Day in 2008 and is about a moment I had the morning of the day Barry died. In My Dreams came a during a time when I had several dreams about him. That Morning, Too is about another visit with what happened, with what was.
I think I feel drawn to posting these tonight because I just miss him. I've said good bye to what was and hello to a new way to be. I'm fine - I simply miss the man I shared so much with and who was such a good listener. I need to talk... so here they are.

That Morning

I can see it, hear it, feel it
so clearly -
that morning.
Warm sunlight
streamed in the window
as the cool breeze
stirred the curtains
next to where you lay.
I paused,
took in the moment,
listened to your
sweet, contented breath
and felt your easy presence,
your love.
That moment, that memory
that morning
sustains me
as I greet new days
on my own.

Sarah Carlson

August 13, 2008

written at the Hospice Education Day

In My Dreams

I keep seeing you
in my dreams.
I feel your quiet presence
in the wee hours of the morning.
You come,
but you are always leaving
and it seems okay.
I can feel that you are content
wherever it is that you’ve gone.
I keep wanting to go with you,
but you make it clear that I cannot.
The last time you were carrying
a pack and I had the sense
that you wanted to take away my hurts
and other things I no longer need.
Thank you, my love.
Thank you for the wonderful years
we shared here in this life.
Thank you for your wisdom, your grace,
and your love.
Thank you for helping me through
this transition as you send
sweet and caring messages
in my dreams.

Sarah Carlson

October 23, 2008

That Morning, Too

I used to feel guilty
that I was not with you when you died.
But my whole heart and my settled mind
know, that in truth, I was.
That morning was so beautiful with
gentle breezes stirring leaves
newly opened after winter’s sleep,
blue sky and warm spring sun
illuminating a world bursting with life.
We were in different places,
me in my classroom,
you on the court,
but we were together.
I know that now.
That morning my attention was drawn out,
away from my self and my surroundings.
I stood by the window several times
and stared, but I saw nothing.
Something was calling me,
and now I know it was you.
Later, as I turned up the hospital drive,
you came to me.
You left us that morning,
but before you went you made sure
I felt the strength of our love.
It washed over me,
flowed through me,
bolstered me for what was to come.
And now as I put words to this,
I feel a renewed sense of joy and gratitude.
In tandem for 27 years
we were together that morning, too.

Sarah Carlson

March 2, 2009

In and Out

In July of 2008 I attended a week long conference on poetry and teaching at the Frost Place in New Hampshire. When I was there among those 'learned poets' I felt somewhat limited in my writing ability at times. But there was also a part of me that understood that my words, written in my own style really did (and do) possess true worth. I remember standing in the the barn that had been turned into a conference center - right there at the home where Robert Frost had written many of his incredible poems - reading my own work in front of the group. As always, there were many different currents flowing through my being and it was a very empowering, somewhat humbling, experience. So much has happened since then. I've opened further, found my voice even more, cried many tears, experienced joy without reservation, and discovered the peace of my self settling into this one and only me.

Today I have felt an old, familiar energy that usually meant a poem was surfacing. I miss writing them - haven't written one since last August. I wonder if maybe they will come differently and I need to be mindful of what else might be there within. But then I had the idea of opening my notebook to see what might be calling out to be posted and I found these three. In was written during the conference. Unfurling and Enfolding were written in the weeks just after I returned. It has been lovely to revisit them...

In

Through the keyhole
wafting among elastic,
eager minds
eclectic energy
ebbs, flows,
sparkles, sifts, settles -
channeling the energy within
as the joy of shared discovery
permeates the room.

Sarah Carlson

July 3, 2008

In the barn of the Frost Place

Unfurling

The layers unravel and reveal
innate beauty, her core.
Stretching, testing,
the rapture of her truth
buoys her and...
suddenly she feels exposed,
vulnerable, unsafe.
Curling back upon herself
she thinks she is wrong, again.
The lure of her truth,
newly freed,
pulls at her and she
relaxes and unfurls once more.
Ahhh there it is,
ecstasy, energy and love -
the ability to trust,
to be just as she is.
She feels it, thinks she is there
and once again the old patterns
cause her to wither and curl.
But this time as she does,
she recognizes that something
is leaving, vaporizing into
the Universe and she
understands her process
as a slow, gentle
unfurling as she learns to
simply be herself
in the moments of
her life.

Sarah Carlson

July 11, 2008

Enfolding

Like a rose she opens
to her world
anew.
Like a day lily
she curls in
at night.
Opening and closing she
tests, tries, tarries a while
when it feels
right.
Her eyes see things she
didn’t recognize
before.
Her mind functions
more in tandem with
her heart.
She wraps her arms
around all that is
hers,
beautiful body,
open heart,
active mind,
loving soul.
Embracing all that is
within and without,
she knows that her gifts
are hers
to honor and share.
Enfolding - going in
to all that is good,
instead of going
away.

Sarah Carlson

July 20, 2008