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