A Sense of Place Within

 A Sense of Place Within

I sit alone on a hilltop,
gaze over the valley
we called home
together.
As a new year approaches
I feel a gentle longing
that has somehow become
a welcome friend.
This, the twentieth time
the calendar changes
without your hand on my shoulder,
your kiss on my cheek.
I close my eyes,
feel the winter sun warm my face,
hear the whisper of the wind
and distant bells of a team of horses
as they work the land nearby.
I smile inwardly
with recent memories of
watching our sweet grandson
as he finds awe and joy
in just about everything.
My mind drifts back to raising
our children together,
seeing the very same in them.
I open my eyes,
notice the softness of the sky
above Mt. Blue.
I’m so grateful for
the time we had here together,
and that I know now
to wrap myself
in the downy comfort
of Love interwoven
as I cultivate
a thriving
 sense of place
within.

Sarah Carlson
December 31, 2021

The Calm Comfort of Love

 

The Calm Comfort of Love

I can still see it –
the blueness of your eyes
filled with love as they
reflected me
back to me.
I can still feel it
as I did the same for you.
An interconnection
that was so deep and genuine
even during hard times,
maybe especially so.
It’s what I miss the most
when we would have teamed up,
been there for each other,
found our way through.
When I really slow down,
drop into
 that serene place within,
I am able
to experience the warmth of it
expand to places
I can’t even identify,
have no real need to.
It contains an eclectic mix
of truth and mystery.
Little by little I have
come to understand that
the comfort of your love
has been
and will be
there forever.
Like the goodness of me,
it is in and around and through –
earthly and celestial
with a divinity
that is safe and right to enfold.
May I,
may each and every one of us,
discern the calm comfort of Love.

Sarah Carlson
December 9, 2021

In and Around and Above

 In and Around and Above

Oh, my goodness.
The goodness that is mine,
that is me.
How much you have endured.
How gently relentless
you have been in
looking,
            listening,
                  learning
from all
 you have explored.
As the sorrows you collected,
 thought were yours to carry,
release and flow away
your own sorrows
are asking to be heard.
It’s okay.
You have the time
and the space
and the ability.
There’s no reason
to feel guilty
                    or selfish
                or wrong.
Remember to let yourself
be led by the light,
the love,
that is in
 and around
and above.
It’s safe to
all the way feel
your very own
pain, grief
 joy, truth.
Oh my goodness,
it’s time.

Sarah Carlson
November 24, 2021

Led by Light

 Led by Light

Some storms
can be seen approaching
as winds whirl,
 darkenings roil.
Some contain
concussive blows
that strike without warning.
Others loom in the distance,
slide in slowly
as intricate energies uncoil.
Sometimes, though,
one can gaze to the horizon,
observe the potential,
feel the energy
without care
 as to whether 
thunder rumbles,
winds freshen,
rains fall.
Translucent, divergent tempests
coexist with a sparkling sense of being.
An opportunity to remember
and honor
the resilience and fortitude
with which stormy times
have been met,
how cleansing
wind and rain can be,
how the warming sun,
glowing moon,
twinkling stars
are actually always there.
A chance
 to more deeply fathom
 that we are
surrounded by,
connected to,
 led by Light.
A looking back
in the interest of
moving forward
into the peace
of an unlimited now.

Sarah Carlson
November 24, 2021

Because I Am In It

 Because I Am In It

As I re-read my poems
I waver between thinking
I keep saying the same thing
to actual awe in how
keenly I articulate
the meanderings of healing.
As I see those words,
I know the latter to be true.
I have chosen to keep writing
through a global pandemic that, for me,
includes a wide range of life experiences
from the death of a mother,
 to retirement from a beloved profession
to the birth of my first grandchild.
Through it all
my home has become a sanctuary,
though I think it may be time to move.
I was curious about those two thoughts
coming together in my mind.
As I returned from a walk just yesterday
I thought, “I love this space…ohhhhh…
I love this space
 because I am in it.”
Like a late season rose,
I open to the changes within
and all around.
I’m not sure what is next,
but this meander has led me
right back
 to me.
A pure, unfurled,
wonder-filled me,
aglow with appreciation
of my very own self.

Sarah Carlson
November 10, 2021

Collected Sorrow

 Collected Sorrow

Though I know I have felt hopeful
and grateful and joyful
all along my way,
I now understand
collected sorrow
has long been
 a stealthy burden
and much of it
simply is not mine.
Some of it saturated deeply,
some beaded and pooled,
some already dripped away.
I think it will take a bit more time
to allow myself to let go
the responsibility,
to not feel as though
I’m falling short if
I choose to fully attend
to my authentic emotions,
whatever they may be.
What is truly imperative
is the recognition
that I’ve consistently acted
from a place of caring deeply,
 being a helper,
wanting to create ease
for the ones I love.
This, however,
does not mean I must
absorb or carry
the despair of others,
causing unease
within me.
In truth, there is
nothing selfish
or nefarious
to that.

Sarah Carlson
October 28, 2021

Of Sunshine and Raindrops

 Of Sunshine and Raindrops

Things seem so clear at times.
At others they
are vague and murky.
I’m much more at ease
in me,
while at the same time
I’m uncertain as to
where I belong.
So I breathe and settle,
accept and allow,
stretch and widen.
And, sometimes I’m treated
to magical moments
such as a rainbow extending
from rocky cliffs to vibrant trees.
One that is so low to the ground
you can see through the layers
and it makes your breath catch
in that really good way.
And I realize
this vivid beacon
 could only happen
with an ideal mix
of sunshine and raindrops.
I’m so very grateful
that I was in the right place
at the right time
so I could soak it in
with a quiet grin,
let the accompanying sensations
saturate and soothe
in whatever ways
they will.

Sarah Carlson
October 22, 2021

Wide-eyed Wonder

 

Wide-eyed Wonder

Having circled back
many times,
she finds her way
 to vivid truth
and velvety comfort.
Circumstances that  
entrenched
faulty, twisted learnings
happened to her,
not because of her.
Of that she is now sure.
Layers adjust
and reintegrate,
 fears that were bestowed
evaporate.
She gazes aloft
with wide-eyed wonder,
glows with the grace of discovery,
fosters her sanctuary within.
She expands to the downy yonder,
 feels reverential,
 less troubled,
curious to experience
what else this
wonderment
might reveal.

Sarah Carlson
October 15, 2021

Baptism by Nature

 Baptism by Nature
 

She walks alone through
autumn woods.
Water music accompanies
her quiet strides
along a stony brook.
A leaf catches her eye
and she stops, looks,
listens, ponders, feels.
She breathes,
dropping in ever deeper,
expanding outward
more and more and more.
Her chest and shoulders,
which still so often ache,
settle
and she feels aglow
with an energy
that is genuine and pure.
A soft mist moistens her face
as she descends the trail.
Innate strength,
beauty, nurture, love
flow steadily within
as she once again
allows herself
to be enfolded by
 natural surrounds.
Alone, yet not,
brightening faith in
the divinity of it all
saturates, invigorates,
cradles her softly
anew.

Sarah Carlson
October 14, 2021

Divinely They Dance

Harvest Moon rising on Lower Shin Pond, Maine

 

I share this poem with gratitude to my grandson who has so much to teach.

Divinely They Dance

I rock you in my arms
as you rest quietly.
I feel the depth of your love,
freedom of your trust,
rhythm of your being.
My thoughts drift back
to the day we shared.
How you opened your arms,
beamed your smile,
from the moment of your waking.
How you picked up a twig,
a leaf, a blade of grass,
a piece of bark
and held each to the sky
in wonderment.
How your body adjusted
to the coolness of the lake
and you splashed and giggled
at the sights, sounds, sensations.
How you explored the cabin,
every cranny and nook,
finding your balance
as your side-steps
become walking,
 whole body smile
your consistent companion.
You don’t have words yet,
but there is no need.
Your delight emanates,
like the light of the full moon
that rises in a darkened sky
as we cuddle.
Baby love,
so pure and true.
Maternal love,
that way, too.
Like shimmering moonbeams,
divinely they dance.

Sarah Carlson
September 24, 2021

Thank You, Blue Heron

 

What sweet relief to 'listen' to this being:

Thank You, Blue Heron

I’ve seen you so many times
this summer.
Skimming the surface
of a glassy lake
that held my body afloat,
soaring above me
with your amazing wings
spread wide,
strolling in the shallows
along a beach where I sat
chatting with a friend.
Unafraid,
 you walked slowly
but with quiet purpose.
Wings at rest,
head held high,
strength and sureness
emanating from your body.
I have learned that you represent
self reflection,
diving into one’s feelings
to discover the authenticity
of spiritual essence,
surfacing with a more balanced
sense of being.
I know this involves
dropping in again and again.
And that I surely have done.
Though the depths can be murky,
 they do have much to teach.
But, in those grassy shallows
I think you were reminding me
of the importance of
enabling emergence,
feeling fullness within,
trusting connection
to that which holds
 and surrounds us
each and every day.
Thank you, Heron.
I appreciate the nudge.

Sarah Carlson
September 16, 2021

This Bold Love

 This piece started emerging a week or so ago. But, I've had a hard time allowing it all the way out. Today, however, it seems to have found its way. I can't really tell if it will help others, but it is surely helping me as I wrestle with previously mentioned waves of sorrow.

This Bold Love

 Reflected brilliance,
there for taking in,
letting out.
Bold and beautiful,
real and right,
this gleaming is
full and free
even if obscured
by storms,
fair weather clouds,
or a lack of noticing.
Like the pull of the moon,
the energy of maternal love
is there
    always.
    Look,
                listen,
                       feel,
            believe.
Know that when you speak
of pain or sorrow
or healing or joy
you will not, can not
 be rejected or negated.
Just as the sky caresses you,
waters support you,
wind breathes you,
the restorative power
of this bold love
runs true
around and through you.
You have long known
how to extend it to others.
It’s time now to allow it
all the way in
with ease.

Sarah Carlson
September 2-10, 2021

 

Reveal

 Reveal

They come close,
but don’t quite overpower me,
these waves of sorrow.
They move this way and that,
make me feel heavy,
queasy, off balance.
My body aches,
mind wonders,
 spirit wavers a bit.
Then I remember that
unease, insight, and freedom
often travel together.
I remind myself that the pain and angst
that are present right now
do not mean failure.
I turn to my strength
and the buoyancy of Health.
I observe the intricate aspects
of what is,
what was,
 more closely
 and notice the interplay
of dark and light,
the fluidity of transformation,
the transitory nature of it all.
I raise my eyes to the horizon,
notice the solidity of distant hills,
a hint of blue behind flowing clouds.
My body relaxes in moments of relief
as facets of healing once again reveal
 the power of unconditional Love
experienced unconditionally.
Right now I do hurt deeply.
There’s no use in denying it.
But I can see that in time
this, too,
will mend.

Sarah Carlson
September 6, 2021

Crisis

 

This photo was taken at the Borestone Mountain Audubon Sanctuary where I spent a day recently at the invitation of someone who works there. I had a wonderful time paddling, hiking, swimming, and learning the amazing history of this beautiful place. 

I chose this picture to partner with this poem because I felt so strong, supported, appreciated, and free that day. It reminds me of so many aspects of that which is good in this life, and in me, as I find my way through this challenging time.

Crisis - n. critical point, turning point,
crossroads, watershed, moment of truth

I woke up this morning
with this word in my mind.
I believe I’ve reached
one in my healing.
I remember this happening
many years ago as I dealt with
issues connected to a toxic building.
I made it through that
and this time I know I have
 an ever more solid
foundation of health on board.
But, right now I think it important
to admit that sometimes I’m scared
and feel alone.
When that happens
it can be hard to imagine
how I can go on.
Yet, I know I will.
Partnered with wave after wave
 of sadness
are currents of hope,
though harder to access right now.
Perhaps this is happening because I have time.
Retirement and this ongoing pandemic
have surely provided that.
I re-read my own poetry
and know it to be true.
I believe in all that has come from
exploring my depths.
So, I thought I’d write this one,
share these pivotal moments of truth
as I navigate this watershed,
fears and tears flowing free.
This is hard.
But, my vessel is still secure
and I trust that love will lead the way
through this murky disquiet
to calmer waters ahead.

Sarah Carlson
September 3, 2021

Bear Witness

 

Cascade Stream Gorge in Coplin, ME

 

I did this short hike on my way to the Rangeley Library to share my poetry last week. I think it made the reading that much more special as the listeners bore witness to the words and images that found their way into the room, that come from all I have learned along the way in the process of healing. This poem has been slowly making its way since then...

I share it with gratitude for my own knowing when and how to pause, notice, offer presence and for the people in my life who know, too.

Bear Witness

A tree,
or part of it,
fell in the woods.
I know this
because I heard the crack
and the crash
as I hiked
on a trail that followed
a stream to a lovely gorge.
I paused and remembered
 the age old question –
if a tree falls in the woods,
does it make a sound?
In this case the answer was
yes
because I was there
to witness it.
The woods were thick,
the gorge quite deep,
so I couldn’t tell
how much of the tree fell
or where it landed.
As I looked into the chasm,
I spotted pieces of birch
starting to disperse
in the slow flowing waters
below me.
I chose to watch for a while,
mesmerized by how each of the pieces
moved at their own pace
as they flowed to places unknown.
I felt honored to bear witness
to this change in the forest,
grateful yet again
for the many lessons
that Nature has to teach.

Sarah Carlson
August 27, 2021

In the Company of Love

 

I did a reading from In the Currents of Quiet at the Rangeley Library this week. Five wonderful women sat in a socially distanced circle and listened to my words, my stories and shared some of their own. After that lovely time I went for a late evening swim just down the street in Rangeley Lake. It was quite magical being in the glowing waters as the sun was setting.

I had been working on this poem over the past few days and that experience helped me complete it... I think.

In the Company of Love

Sunset clouds roll
over surrounding hills
with quiet power
and beauty.
Rains diminish,
leaving them to
 uncoil, expand, let go.
Silent swimmer slides
into the calm, golden water,
 allows her body to be held.
She lays back, breathes, relaxes
as waters, sky,
radiant clouds
blend into her being.
 Quivery pains that surfaced
from a once stagnant abyss
swirl away slowly.
In moments of buoyancy
both clouds and sorrows
seem grateful that she knows
to attend and allow.
Innate resilience,
ubiquitous grace,
 shifting waters of healing,
once again support and guide her.
She scans the sky,
realizes that often
the most intense sadness
keeps company
with pure, profound love.
In acknowledging one,
enabling the other,
aches ease,
soul settles,
and the light of Love
gleams brilliantly
 through
it all.

Sarah Carlson
August 20, 2021

When the Doing is Done

 When the Doing is Done

Miles and miles pass.
Arduous, easy,
everything in between.
 On the shore
of a wilderness lake –
aglow from
paddling with family,
setting up camp,
grandson snuggles,
a hearty meal by the campfire
I climb into my waiting tent.
Lulled by diminishing winds,
lapping waves,
loon calls echoing
I lay down to rest.
A sense of ease permeates,
my soul settles completely,
I  seem to know myself
as never before.
I allow it to widen,
feel the intrinsic delight
of embracing pure divine grace.
Back home
 I revisit the comfort
of that sensation,
 understand the impact
of  recognizing
when the doing is done,
 holding that which makes
 one feel
sheltered, connected,
sustained and loved.

Sarah Carlson
August 8, 2021

The Me That He Sees

 

This poem has been partially written, nestled in my journal for several days. This heart rock helped me round it out to completion. I found it just under the surface of the quiet morning waters of Lobster Lake, Maine during a recent wilderness camping trip with my daughter and her family. 

The Me That He Sees

It comes in fits and starts,
this pleasant sense of drifting
to places where sediments have settled
and images are crystal clear.
The energy of it,
of me,
is pure and full of grace.
My heart no longer feels broken,
though there will always be a void.
I experience a wholeness
that includes the hollow
and all that has come from adjusting.
Obstacles and challenges,
both past and present,
disperse with the waves
or dissolve into the truth of me –
whatever serves me best.
In those moments
I flow with less restriction,
my soul settles
ever more deeply,
I find treasure in me.
My gentle smile permeates within,
stretches beyond the horizon,
as I realize this is the me
that he saw all along,
that he sees
 still.

Sarah Carlson
July 23, 2021-
August 2, 2021

Freshening

 View from the Hariseeket Trail, Wolf Neck Woods State Park, Maine

Freshening

A focus on attending to the pain,
the needs of others
has long been my companion.
So deeply ingrained
that I tend to override my own,
yet I both hurt… and need.
This antiquated habit
of putting myself last
sometimes constricts
 my sense of allowing
 the rhythm of healing
to move freely through.
But, it does anyway.
When I spiral softly
into another chasm
that needs attention
I can get confused,
think I must do something,
apologize,
or that I’m simply
supposed to hurt.
Eventually, though,
my breath joins
the wind in the trees,
the pulse of the ocean,
the vastness of the sky above.
I can smile,
say hello to new Health,
let pains release over time.
With a freshening of companionship
in this vessel that is me,
I become more and more adept
at riding
 the steady waters of healing,
letting them carry me along.

Sarah Carlson
July 8, 2021

This Day

 

Recently I took a walk on the Mingo Springs Trail and Birdwalk, designed by John Bicknell. John and my husband Barry knew each other in bygone days. Gentle men, both.

The trail is in Rangeley, Maine where I met Barry in 1975. We were married 42 years ago today. I deeply miss him though it has been 19 yeas since he died. I learned so very much in the years we shared together and from the years I have spent adjusting to life without him. I am grateful and hopeful and will remain so. Days like today, though, do contain sadness. And, that's okay.

This Day 

Wind whispers in diverse branches,
 shadows flicker with passing clouds,
lush undergrowth thrives.
She walks pensively
along the clear path ahead
allowing sensations to arise,
 come and go as they may.
Ancillary sorrows,
remembered joys,
everything betwixt and between.
She pauses,
 scans the woodsy scene,
sighs and smiles,
enables soft memories
of falling in love with
a kindhearted,
blue-eyed,
gentle man
billow and swirl.
That love,
that passion,
that partnership
remain true
as she forges on.
Warm sunlight,
playful shadows,
dancing trees,
courageous human.
This day,
like so many others,
she chooses to move forward
with the pulsating power
of Love
solidly on board.

Sarah Carlson
June 30, 2021

Unburdened

 These rocks spoke to me when I did a birthday walk at Wolfe Neck Woods State Park recently. I wasn't sure why until today - three weeks later.

Unburdened

Layers and layers

form, fuse, tip,

merge, morph, split.

A heavy load this can be

if one was trained 

to carry.

Bit by bit comes the dismantling.

Some slabs, though weathered,

have a stealthy strength,

even in the smaller chunks.

The jaggedness of feeling judged

can be present

when one allows vulnerabilities

to be exposed,

when one learned 

to keep certain emotions

hidden away.

Little by little the load can lighten,

if one is supported 

in laying it down

or casting it away.

A confusing crevice

forms when friends 

seem to fall by the wayside,

especially in a pandemic

as solitude takes on new meaning. 

Step by step, however, 

those who choose 

to allow grief

have the opportunity 

to rediscover being held,

even as complex tears flow.

For me,

I must remember

the hope that has run true

throughout.

I must trust that the

 flowing of tears

will help clear the way to 

whatever comes next.

Unburdened,

I will continue on

to discover ever more

in me.

Sarah Carlson

June 16, 2021

Ever More

 

The past two days have been the last ones with students. I am, at this point, retired. So many meanings to that word, but I'm choosing to look at it as a time to allow myself to simply say, "Now what." I don't see it as an ending, but more a beginning. This piece is a part of how I am processing that and so much more that is going on within.

Ever More

Though facets are changing,
 the way ahead somewhat hazy,
she is peaceful,
feeling both whole
and holy.
That last part is novel,
though it has been present
in her tenor all along.
She just couldn’t quite
acknowledge it fully
for her faith had been
smothered, too,
by others who once
loomed large.
She breathes,
courageously puts words
to her sense of holiness.
Surreptitious shadows
swirl and slide about.
but they do not
can not,
find substance.
 It matters less and less
as to why or where
or how they came
as outward they go,
leaving the way
ever more open.
Relief unfurls
as she breathes
ever more freely.
She smiles a
whole body smile
ever more broadly.
Self compassion renews
as healing finds its way
ever more wholly.
She writes and
again feels held,
trusting that there
is ever more
to refresh,
    record,
         restore.

Sarah Carlson
June 11, 2021

The Fullness of Grief

 

Rarely do I post a photo of me with my poetry. But, this was such a settled moment for me. And, it was my birthday. 

I love to take a slow walk after an Osteopathic treatment and have found such solace along the shores of Casco Bay at Wolfe Neck Woods State Park lately. As I walk along the trail, gaze to the water and sky, listen to ocean rhythms, I can feel things shift and settle. Often a poem starts to form and this is one of those that began stirring a week or so ago, but surfaced all the way today.

For many reasons that are important for me, my own knowing, this year is actually the first time I can fully feel the losses of my life - especially that of my husband. That may seem odd to an outsider since it has been 19 years since he died. But, I am so grateful to be feeling all these feels, that I found my way to where I am right now. To this insider it just feels right.

This piece is again the teacher in me talking. I hope that others may find their way, whenever the time is right, to feeling the fullness that I am experiencing right now.

The Fullness of Grief

As thoughts drift
back to what was
 there can be loneliness,
                            heartache,
                                    longing.
So many of us were taught
to control our tears,
hide our despair,
that there is some sort of order
to grief.
All of that is fallacy.
Body may tighten,
breath restrict
spirit become uneasy.
Yet, when the tension
of unexpressed sorrow unwinds,
when it is allowed to surface
and tears flow free,
one can experience
the fullness of grief.
This is uniquely individual,
can not be prescribed,
should not be judged.
Honor love shared,
comfort an aching soul,
reclaim and rejuvenate
one’s sweet self.
Such is the
power and potential
of enabling
the fullness of grief.

Sarah Carlson
June 6, 2021

Held

 

I had my first full reading from In the Currents of Quiet a few days ago. I scheduled it on purpose during what I call 'weird week'. Two birthdays (including mine) and two anniversaries of deaths all in one week. It felt so good to weave together pieces and let the words find their way to listeners. Thoughtful, insightful questions were asked and answered. Joy, love, and healing were present. Beginning again... again.

I also did two in person signings - one the day of the reading and one the next day (yesterday). A few people came and bought books on the first day - past students, someone I had worked with, a old acquaintance who just happened by. Wonderful conversations and connections. Yesterday, however, I sat there swatting black flies for an hour and a half... and the bones of this poem formed.

So many aspects of my life and healing converged for this to emerge. I do believe that my books will continue to find hands and hearts that will appreciate and benefit from them. I love sharing my work and hearing how it resonates with others. There's never a question to that. But, it feels so liberating to simply appreciate what this process means to me, to allow myself comfort in being the important one as I sit with pencil in hand...

 Held

Pencil in hand
I pause,
breathe, allow,
know to let words
simply flow as they may,
as they have so many times
over these past years.
Early on they came
            in a quickening,
                        poured forth
                            as grief
                                                    opened the way.
More often now
there’s a gentle tug and
            they come in
                                peaceful currents
as images, perceptions
flicker
                 and flutter
until a clear reflection presents.
There’s an enjoyable aspect
 of wordplay
as my sweet wild child’s
poetic purity
                darts
                 and dances
until she feels heard.
When I write
I feel held,
            buoyant,
                        limitless,
            suspended.
Waters meet sky,
dark and light mingle,
and it matters not
who else might listen.

Sarah Carlson
May 28, 2021

 

Smothered No Longer

 Smothered No Longer

The wounds of grief,
whatever the origin,
need not be fully defined
as dark,
though that does
loom large early on.
Given space
to express and honor,
explore and heal,
one gains the opening
to transmute.
There is potential
to access
diffusing Light,
branching awareness,
currents of quiet peace.
When grief bursts come now
I know what to do:
Allow,
    speak,
        cry,    
                    remember,
                    love…
                            me.
                            Breathe,
                    ponder,
                recover,
      hold,
be…
me.
What sweet relief it is
to have my grief
smothered no longer.
What dawning joy
I discern
 by granting it
with Love.

Sarah Carlson
May 14, 2021

I'll Hold You, Too

Photo by Emma Carlson

 

Happy Mother's Day on my first one as Oma.

 I’ll Hold You, Too

Unsettled,
you are in need
of comfort.
I speak quiet words
of encouragement
and love.
Slowly and steadily
your  body relaxes
and you nestle
into my arms,
tiny fingers
wrapped around
one of mine.
Once again I drift back
to days of mothering.
Precious moments of
holding my babies,
calming their unease,
soothing their tears,
basking in wholesome love shared
with them and their sweet dad.
A tender sigh brings me
back to you,
your contented breath
and gentle holding.
I’m so very happy
that I get
to hold you, too.

Sarah Carlson
May 9, 2021

Finding Oneself in Solitude

 

Finding Oneself in Solitude

Long stretches of time
alone
in the past year or so,
though challenging,
have allowed much to come
to light.
Unfettered recognition of
                                        illusion,
                               pain,
                            strength,
                 truth.
Uneasy wonderings of
    who remembers,
                where to fit,
                            what is next
                                                                when, how, if to re-emerge.
     Sometimes so clear,
 other times

                                                      just out of focus.

Branching moments
 of suspension 

create currents of
 gratitude for love let in,
                    comfort in quiet company,
                                     hope of candid connection.
                            Valid,
                   vital,
                    revealing,
            redeeming –
finding oneself
in solitude.

Sarah Carlson

May 2, 2021

Salty Softness

 Popham Beach, Maine - April 20, 2021

Salty Softness

Spring winds gently swirl
as a lively ocean adjusts
to an incoming tide.
She walks slowly,
listens
both out and in.
        Reminiscing,
                     remembering,
                            realigning.
She has no real plan
other than to be there,
see what comes,
relax in moments
of in between.
She is drawn out
                        along a sand bar,
                                closer to the
                                                        breaking waves.
Soothing ocean rhythms
bring tender tears
and she speaks her heart
to those who are gone.
She hears empathy
as she articulates her truth,
currents of self-compassion
now part of her flow.
She looks to the horizon
sandwiched between briny waves
and velvety clouds.
She feels at once grounded and lofty,
 smiles at the salty softness
of allowing.

Sarah Carlson
April 22, 2021

Solace

 

Mt. Blue as seen from the Holley Road. This mountain can be seen from every town in our school district, which is why we are known as Mt. Blue RSD. It's a view that brings a warm smile when ever I return home or just happen to gaze its way.

 

Solace

One fierce event,
subliminal missives
over time,
a potent combination
of the two.
There’s no concrete memory,
but clearly my body recollects
some sort of smothering
that left a multi-strand,
            intricately wound,
                                tightly bound,
                    ball of hurt   
            deep within.
Ever so slowly,
bit by bit,
unwinding and release
have accompanied my healing.
Residual fury
sometimes kindles,
a valid part of the wound.
When I sit with the stillness
that comes after such a surge,
more deeply I feel my essence.
Like a distant mountain
whose familiar silhouette
brings solace in varied skies,
my inner world
more and more
a place of comfort
for me.

Sarah Carlson
April 16, 2021

Moments Such as This

The song of a cardinal on my morning walk helped this one come to the surface:

 Moments Such as This

I walk familiar circles,
though inner dialogue shifts.
One foot in front of the other
as onward I move.
I hear you,
but don’t take notice
at first.
Your gentle persistence penetrates.
Upward I gaze,
locate you
on a branch
underlit by the morning sun,
clear blue sky your canvas.
I thank you for moments such as this.
I don’t yet fully understand
and loneliness remains a constant,
though it wanes.
I will continue to listen
and look for these opportunities
to let go residual angst,  
tap my steady wisdom,
build trust in my
connection
to you.

Sarah Carlson
April 9, 2021

Mommy... Where's God?

I've been working through many things lately. I don't quite know where I am, and yet I'm right here very solidly in me. Recently I went for a very tired cross country ski to get out into the wisdom of the woods. To my surprise I ended up doing a full loop of the trails. You could say I was drawn up the hill. As I slowly climbed I could feel my being settle into that familiar peace that comes in the natural world, particularly in the company of these pines.  The thought that I have been on a pilgrimage of sorts drifted into my mind followed by the sweet, warm memory that this poem is about.

 Mommy…. Where’s God?

 I sit uncomfortably
in a house of worship
that is not familiar to me,
my four year old son
in my lap.
He cranes his neck,
looks up at a large, ornate cross
hanging over an alter that
seems so very far away.
His sweet, innocent voice
reaches my ears with
a whisper,
“Mommy… where’s God?”
His wonderful father,
my soulmate,
sits next to my shoulder
holding our
two year old daughter.
He turns to me with
a knowing smile,
 blue eyes twinkling,
an unspoken question of,
“So, how will you answer that one,
my love?"
And, without missing more than
 a few beats
I hug our precious son,
his blue eyes searching my face,
and say,
“God is here, and there,
and everywhere.”
In that moment,
that answer is enough.
And we,
the four of us,
settle into the love
that binds us
just a little bit more.

Sarah Carlson
March 18, 2021

A Pandemic Year

 Shared with gratitude to MaineHealth and the staff of Franklin Memorial Hospital, along with the many others who contributed to the opportunity to receive a COVID-19 vaccine.

A Pandemic Year
Through the Heart of a Teacher

Friday, March 13, 2020.
After a tense week
trying to appease the fears
of fourth grade minds and hearts,
she walks out the door
of her beloved classroom.
Little does she know
that she will never go back
to teaching as she had known it
for 30 years.
There begins a time
of losses and gains,
 unease and sureness,
confusion and certainty,
and everything in between –
sometimes all at once.

Saturday, March 13, 2021.
After a tense few days
 appeasing the fears
of her own mind and heart,
she walks into a door opened
by science and leadership.
Emotions stirring,
she is met by volunteers
smiling behind masks,
gentle support in their eyes.
Joining a smooth flow
of veteran educators
she is ushered into a large room
staffed by compassionate medical workers.
An explanation,
a pause for questions,
a quick jab
that she hardly feels,
a time to sit and make
sure her body accepts
the vaccine.
Taking a relieved and grateful breath,
she walks out another door,
hope and appreciation
filling her heart.

Sarah Carlson
March 14, 2021

Unbounded

Unbounded

The losses and stresses
of my young life
took a seat
way in the back
as I was obscured
by the needs of others.
Still, I know love when I feel it.
The brightness,
the rightness of my light
was surrounded,
almost encapsulated,
by dense, distressing darkness.
Still, it shines.
In my past
when I was hurting
or needing help,
I ran headlong
into a wall of anger and disdain.
Still, I find my way to healing.
I lost so much on a May day in 2002.
There one minute, gone the next.
Still, here I am –
tender, radiant, lively me.
Energetic, fun-loving,
go-out-for-a-ski-
even-though-it’s-13-below-
giggle-at-frozen-eyelashes-
and-frosty-hair me.
I’m right here
learning to relax into
the dawning joy
 of being unbounded.

Sarah Carlson

March 2, 2021

This Light of Mine

 This Light of Mine

Good morning, Me.
I love how you rose up,
larger than life
on the trail ahead
just when I needed you.
 Working through
a detached despair
that sloshes about,
my body was achy and weary.
But, I went skiing anyway,
knowing that
fresh air, forward momentum,
the company of trees
were necessary.
As I was climbing,
so was the sun.
It peeked from behind me,
found an opening,
warmed my back,
allowed me to rise
in front of my self.
A quiet pause,
a gentle breath,
a dawning joy,
 a deeper notion
 that despite the heaviness
of details of the dark,
this light of mine
is good and strong
and so very right.

Sarah Carlson
February 26, 2021

Thank You, Father

 Thank You, Father

I took some runs
 on a favorite trail
that we skied together
so very long ago.
Timberline –
where we can gaze to the Whites,
appreciate our valley,
cruise the ridge line with ease.
I wasn’t expecting you,
but the softness of the sky
seemed to descend,
wrap me in comfort and support
as I carved graceful arcs
in the twinkling snow.
Whispered words of gentle reminder
helped me connect to
ubiquitous love.
My whole body settled
into sensations of hope, ease,
security, and peace.
Thank you, Father.
I needed that so very much.
I will once again suspend
in these moments of
in between,
as a stiff, shadowy unease
slowly and steadily melts,
 eventually evaporates away.
 

Sarah Carlson
February 14, 2021

In the Glistening

The soft, snowy woods on a morning ski...

 In the Glistening 

Crisp air,
fresh snow,
rising sun,
strengthening body.
The power of movement
allows opportunity
 for morning sparkles
to grace this
glorious life.
In the glistening
facets of mourning
reflect and refract
so that healing happens,
 despair dissolves,
spirit settles
just a little bit more.

Sarah Carlson
February 9, 2021

What's True

A hard fought one...

 What’s True

This beautiful valley,
 part of her life
since before she can remember.
This day,
though all appears
still and frozen,
full of movement and memories,
sensations and stories,
feelings and folklore
for her.

An eclectic mix swirls 

around and through.
Heartache, hope,
anguish, adventure,
confusion, clarity 

mingle
as energy within her
gently drifts.
She smiles sadly,
breathes deeply,
allows her being
 to widen once again.
Though deep despair
is definitely present,
she senses currents
of comfort
as more and more
she trusts
what she knows
to be true.

Sarah Carlson
February 8, 2021

The Energy of it All

 The Energy of it All

As the effects of
 bygone impositions
dissolve
bit by bit by bit,
I’m realizing that it’s
the energy of it all
that is shifting now,
has been along the way.
It was a fearsome, frothy mix
that bubbled and oozed,
 spread toxicity
in a stealthy, fluctuating fashion
 around sweet, tender me.
It’s in my power now
 to let the toxicity
stream away.
Whether it cascades, gushes,
seeps, or dribbles
 matters not
because it’s just not mine,
never was.
As it goes
I have the opportunity
 to more deeply experience
 that which is mine.
I can pause,
raise my eyes
to the expansive sky,
feel the warmth
 of the morning sun
around and through my body
as I bask in the
big, bold, brilliant
energy of me.

Sarah Carlson
January 23, 2021

Such Illumination

 

Such Illumination

The steady presence of the moon
has long been a fascination,
its nuances and beauty
there for the beholding
no matter what’s
going on below.
All that is needed is
a clear enough sky
and awareness.

Our beautiful moon carries truth.
The same side always faces us,
and yet the other exists.
It moves through its lovely phases
 with varied amounts of reflected light,
but no matter what we see,
or even if we don’t bother to look,
 it is whole.
Its consistent orbit
provides the basis
for the months of our earthly year.
Its gravity pulls tides,
was probably a factor
in the stabilizing of the earth
so that life here can flourish.
And flourish we should,
even when times are challenging,
troubling, confusing.

The truth of the moon…
such illumination.
A template for
 letting our own light shine,
especially as we feel unsure,
unnoticed, or even unseen.
Because just like the moon,
we are whole,
we matter.

Sarah Carlson
January 14, 2021