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