Quiet Currents

I seem to have circled around, twisted the lens on what the title of my second book means. The motion of stillness, the health of the dissolution of that which is not viable to one's authenticity.

 Quiet Currents

I slide quietly  
off the dock
as sunlight slowly expands
into a cloud swaddled sky
and onto the barely rippled pond.
My feet leave the ground
and I rejoice
at the familiar comfort
of being buoyant and free.
I’m a bit achy
from a misstep that led
to a fall
just the evening before,
which enhances the freedom
and delight
even more.
I swim slowly,
soft waters
embrace my skin,
harmonize my body,
nurture my depths.
Quiet currents
of a summer morning
stir deep gratitude within.
Thank you….
to the Divine –
both in the wideness
and in me,
to the waters –
both of the lake,
and of me,
to me –
both in my body,
and in the wideness.
And,
to all beings who notice,
honor, allow –
I do, too.

Sarah Carlson
July 29, 2022

Found

 Found

I stand on a beach
in the wildness of the wind.
Whitecaps crash on the breakwater,
sand and small stones stir at my feet.
Something stirs in me, too.
It doesn’t feel good or bad.
I’m just aware.
I head into the lake,
swim straight into the wind,
honor the effort it takes
to keep my head above water.
I scan the surface as I swim,
break through the larger waves
with my hands,
let those less intense lift me
and let me back down.
I smile with a sense that I’m likely
the only human in or on the lake,
feel inherent vigor,
settle into a cadence that takes me far.
I rest on a familiar rock
where dragonflies often visit.
But, today even they
must be wary of the wind.
As I head back to the beach
the waves become propulsion,
a welcome shift in perspective.

A few days later,
that which had stirred
 is unloosened.
A depth of loneliness is back
and I feel sort of lost
in swells of eclectic emotions.
And then I remember the waves,
both lake and ocean,
how when their rhythm is joined,
one is not lost,
but found.

Sarah Carlson
July 11, 2022

Out There

 Out There

I look to the blue wideness,
feel the rhythm of the waves,
appreciate so much that
is good in my life.
I ponder yet again how
one can feel full
and empty at the
very same time.
This fullness comes from
salty, sandy, joyful
beach time shared
with offspring
and offspring of offspring.
The emptiness is actually
small, but mighty.
Perhaps some of it comes from
the closing of a career,
saying good-bye to a mother and father,
 solo pandemic time,
missing the one with whom
I would have processed all that.
No matter how hard I’ve tried
in the 20 years since he died,
I can’t seem to find community
here where we lived.
This particular loneliness
is very real
and I feel right in naming it.
For so long I thought it came
from something I
must have done wrong,
like grieve.
My healing has shown me
that simply isn’t true.
So I look once again
to the blue wideness
and realize there’s so much more …
                                                      out there.
                                                                        And out there
                                                            includes me.

Sarah Carlson
July 7, 2022

Fostering Hope

 Fostering Hope

Such hard work
 has lead to
a more clear, less obstructed
 recognition of courage,
substance,
and truth
in me,
in the writing that
flows from my depths.
I am grateful that
grief and loss
steered me both inward
and outward.
I am in awe that,
though deeply wounded,
 I found my way to
trust the path of healing
and its meanders.
I am comfortable expressing
an appreciation of the being
I am now,
have always been.
More and more
I treasure my essence
as it reveals delicate facets,
reflects the warmth of the mid-day sun,
resonates with the pulse of the ocean,
radiates love with the openness
of a wide-eyed child.
I find hope in me,
that fosters hope for
the world we live in
right here, right now.

Sarah Carlson
July 7, 2022

As Wide as the Ocean

photo by Emma Carlson

 As Wide as the Ocean

Decompress,
                        restore,
             recover.
Feet held by cool sand,
legs awash in foamy brine,
soul soothed by
            the sight,
                            sound,
                                                sensations,
                            of rhythmic waves
                    as they
                                swell,
                                         roll,
                                                    crest,
                                                                break,
                                                uprush,
                                     backwash,
                 intermingle
        over and over
    and over again.
Shoulders back,
heart open,
breath comes
with ease.
As wide as the ocean—
fully you,
fully me,
all the way in it
together.

Sarah Carlson
July 5, 2022