The Deep Simplicity of Joy

 The Deep Simplicity of Joy

How fortunate I am
to be in a time and place
where I can open my eyes
to a smiley toddler
as a new day begins.
What shall we do?
Bike to the bottom
of the driveway and back?
Go to the library
for Story Time?
Head to the beach?
Oh, wait… it’s only April
and it’s raining.
Hmmm, that doesn’t matter…
Let’s go - we can do it all!
And so we do.
By beach time
it’s a gentle rain,
and only a little bit cold,
so we settle in to play by the shore.
I am mesmerized by
how he takes such care
in filling his bucket with sand
and dumping it into
the small pond we built.
Over and over and over again.
He fills, pours,
watches, and smiles.
I, too -
fill, pour, watch, and smile
at the deep simplicity
of the joy
this delightful boy
takes in
and gives out
each and every day.

Sarah Carlson
April 21, 2023

Truth in the Blues

 Truth in the Blues

I walk on a windswept beach,
enjoy the teasing warmth
of an early April sun.
Having spent much time
in the mountains of late,
I am captivated by
a scene that appears, at first
to be acutely linear
with very distinct layers.
I stand
    and breathe
        and notice.
Sand swirls around my feet
and shifts on the shoreline
with the outgoing tide.
The waters near me
        riffle gently,
            flicker with
                 intermingling hues.
 My eye is drawn
                                                  to the wide horizon.
Such a deep blue
where the sea
meets the lightness
of the sky.
These contrasting tones
enliven tides
within the truth of me,
especially the richness
in the bounds of my blues.
How amazing it has been
to explore
my fathoms,
discover a trove
of  comfort, love,
 wholeness, sanctity
within
the lively textures
of grief.

Sarah Carlson
April 12, 2023

A Long Time Coming

 A Long Time Coming

A photo of 18-year-old me
and conversations with a friend
from my alpine racing days,
stir both stale pain and opportunity
for healing deep within.
March 1976.
I’m in a tuck,
strong and free,
on the flats of a downhill race.
I see her now,
connect with her then,
know the truth
of her teenage experiences.
She couldn’t put words to her sorrow
in those days.
It wasn’t safe.
She was full of imposed fear…
 and fearless.
Her pain, mine,
comes up and out
with a strength and vulnerability
that is righteous.
In speaking the truth,
being listened to with
kindness and compassion,
I claim my own experiences,
find a novel freedom
that may take some getting used to.
I honor that young ski racer in me
with an absence of wrongness,
and it’s wonderful.
I look out the window
as a gentle rain falls,
releases left over ice
from last night’s storm,
and realize that apparently
I just need to let go,
 cry tears that have been
such a long time coming.

Sarah Carlson
April 6, 2023