Heartsong

This is a poem that has taken all summer to emerge. The title and the first line came into my head during a yoga session at School Street Yoga at the beginning of the summer. But I couldn't seem to go on and I felt quite stuck, though not really in a bad place. I just had the sense that there was more to do, that I needed to move but I didn't know quite how or where. Several experiences, including the hike/climb up the Hunt Trail to Baxter Peak on Katahdin, led to my having some interesting energy today. I got a lot done, but all morning I felt that there was something more that I needed to do. And that's when I recognized it as 'poetry energy'. Then I remembered that I had written one in my journal over the past few weeks and there it was - Heartsong in an almost finished state. I do know that much of what it says is in my earlier works, but again there is a different depth, something more - at least for me. So... here it is.

Oh - and in this picture on Baxter Peak my heart really was singing. It took a lot to get there and so much of what is in this poem came together in the moment this picture was taken.

Heartsong

There is a song my heart does sing.
The primal pulse has been within me
since my days in the watery womb.
Constant company during my emergence
and as I continue to stretch into
my being – growing, learning, living, loving.
Multiple melodies weave themselves together
as the insights gleaned from
all I’ve unraveled and explored
provide opportunities to compose
new rhythms that join with that solid, steady, sweet beat.
In the moments when the busy-ness of my mind settles
I become more and more able to hear
the authentic music of my soul.
I slow down and move to stanzas that were written
during each phase of my life.
Grief, gratitude, fear, joy,
despair, trust, loneliness, love,
and the spectrum betwixt and between
shift and synthesize to make a sumptuous symphony
for me to experience, celebrate, expand, and share.
I just need to allow my self to let go,
to finally truly trust that it is safe
to soar, enfold, dance,
freely connect with
the splendid, solid song that
my good and caring heart does sing.

Sarah Carlson

August 8, 2011

Mountain waterfall

A few weeks ago I had another amazing experience on Katahdin. I had the opportunity to be a part of group of eight people who hiked/climbed the Hunt Trail. I knew a few of the people and met the others the night before our adventure. I had been on Katahdin the previous summer - up and down the Saddle Trail - so I knew the ruggedness of the mountain. But the Hunt Trail, though gentle at the beginning, is an incredibly challenging endeavor. Once we reached the rocky ledges before the tableland I became pretty maxed out, physically and emotionally, and later spiritually. This was not at all a bad thing, just intense. The group I was with banded together to help each other in so many ways and the caring support was an integral part of the experience. There was one point where tears surfaced for me. I tried to hold them back, but they were not to be denied. I can clearly admit that they were in part due to fear (it was VERY steep), but there was much more. The support was part of it and I also had a very subtle connection to Barry. I had the sense that he was there in the background, sort of lending his appreciation from afar. I wasn't looking for it, but it was definitely there, and in those moments I felt so very grateful for so many things.
This poem, I think, surfaced as a way of explaining those tears. The above picture is of Katahdin Falls which we passed fairly early on during the day.

Mountain Waterfall

Luscious liquid falls from solid ground
into the freedom of the air.
Some molecules softly dissipate into mist
while others,
bound together by earthly forces,
crash onto protruding rocks, roots, and trees.
One way no better than the other,
they coexist in that space
at that time
to make a lovely display
of the sweetness and surrender
of letting go
and the strength and courage
of flowing ahead.

Sarah Carlson

August 26, 2011