The Power of Love

On this the 20 year mark of Barry's death, I share with so much gratitude for having had the time I did with him, for the children we raised, for the grandson who brings so much light and love to our lives, and for the ways I have found to grow along the way.

 

 The Power of Love

Taking an evening stroll
around our loop,
paddling to a favorite rock
on the shore of a quiet lake,
seeing a familiar twinkle
in the eyes of our grandson.
My thoughts circle back
 to tender memories,
softly tinged with missing you,
that continue to hold so true.
Sacred fog may surround,
 clouds may open
to the warmth of the sun
or the tenderness of
a glowing moon.
You are there, here
with us all.
The deep despair
of your passing
has slowly transformed
to a gentle grief.
Not a burden to carry,
more a sweet reminder
of the power of  Love.
I felt it when we met,
through our lives together,
on the day you died.
I feel it still,
a constant source
as I continue to explore,

absorb,
and heal.

Sarah Carlson
May 29-30, 2022

Subtle Grandeur

 

I haven't been writing as much lately, which has actually felt good. I've been allowing myself to rest in the sacred fog that I wrote about a few weeks ago.

I'm now right in the middle of what I affectionately call Weird Week. It starts with May 22, the day my brother died in 1987. The next day is my husband Barry's birthday. He would have been 80 this year. Today is my birthday and then May 29th will mark 20 years since Barry died. 

I had a moment after an osteopathic treatment yesterday where I felt a shift in how I usually experience this week and this poem is an attempt to capture that. I can't really tell how it might come across, but it felt very good to write.

The photo was taken last Sunday (May 22nd) at a gathering of family and friends atop Mt. Washington.

Subtle Grandeur

One beautiful spring day,
20 years ago,
life changed dramatically.
Eventually I chose to
walk into the grief
of such a sudden loss.
There has been
 both murkiness and clarity
along the way,
the path
filled with
challenges and shifts,
flowing tears,
 and billowing joys.
I’ve landed
in a place where I can
honor the pain of loss,
 the depth of love shared,
 the person I have become.
Imperfectly perfect
just as I am,
I ground
to the accomplishments
all these years have contained.
 I sit atop a mountain
precious grandson in my lap,
both our children nearby.
I breath a contented sigh
as I look to mountain waves
that stretch
across the horizon.
Subtle grandeur that contains
 stillness and movement,
grace and peace,
hope and promise,
and so very much love.

Sarah Carlson
May 26, 2022

 

Sacred Fog

 Sacred Fog

As one drops in
and widens,
there can be a sense
of being in a sort of
sacred fog.
There is a softness here.
Though that which
 once anchored
has altered,
there is safety, too.
Rhythmic waves
create a gentle harmony
that blends with breath and heart.
Vastness may not be visible,
yet is both discernible
and inclusive.
This sacred fog
can allow for
that which aches or tugs
or threatens
to disperse
as light once more
works its way
around and through
from above.

Sarah Carlson
May 11, 2022