Once Again

 Once Again

I’ve been so used to observing closely
that I sometimes forget to look wide,
especially when I’m uneasy.
I get better and better, though,
 at remembering,
especially outside.
I can pause upon a rocky ledge,
scan, and breathe -
all the way to my toes and into the earth,
all the way out to the tops of the trees and beyond.
Moments of connection and expansion,
deep and real and true.
I feel the solidity
of the layered mountains
in the distance,
recognize their history of change.
I notice how part of the lake below
riffles in the winter wind,
while quiet ice blankets the rest.
I contemplate shades of gray
as they shift in flowy clouds
just as the sun peeks through,
illuminates and widens.
And, there it is,
 there you are,
there I am.
In those moments,
and more often in the everyday,
I can anchor deeply as I expand,
honor my wholeness as I mend,
feel the potency of Love
once again.

Sarah Carlson
February 24, 2024

You, Me, Love

Footprint, pawprint, heartprint - Barker Brook, 2/3/24

 You, Me, Love

 I’m drawn to the little beach
where we caught crayfish,
skipped rocks,
taught the kids
 the art of throwing bubblers.
I turn my face to the mid-winter sun,
close my eyes,
listen to the quiet, shimmering flow -
both of the brook and of me.
 I stretch freely
from ground to sky
and beyond in all directions.
My breath expands,
 blends with the trees
and the breeze,
just as they join me.
I feel you, me, Love.
Both the joy of the whole-hearted
way we lived together
and the sadness
 of how broken-hearted
I felt when you died
are palpable.
A deepening departure
of judgment,
            wrongness,
                            any pull to be
            other than I am.
A freedom to tell, ask, feel,
grieve, laugh, cry, be…
The comfort of feeling at home in me.

Though I have known these before,
I lost sight a bit
enduring the pandemic.
As if social distancing
became a sort of soul distancing
that tapped a deep, tender place
of feeling scared and alone in the dark,
trying hard to understand.
Though healing and growth continued
and Light has been present,
there was a void.
Thank you for reaching through,
in ways powerful, subtle, and true.
As I fathom the fullness of me,
 I am ever grateful
for you, me, Love.

Sarah Carlson
February 4, 2024

His Special Light

 His Special Light

The morning starts
 with a quick cuddle
and the excitement 
of getting ready
for adventure.
As always,
there’s such joy
in learning, growing,
and being together.
Later,
he holds his special light
as we softly sing
Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star.
Before long his eyes get heavy
and he ever-so-gently
 drifts off to sleep.
My body slowly relaxes, too,
as light, love,
and gratitude for
such tender moments
spread throughout my being.
What a sweet reminder
of how delightful it is
to love,
and be loved.

Sarah Carlson
February 2, 2024

By Your Side

 Sun shadow arc that appeared just as the sun was breaking through the clouds behind me - top of Narrow Gauge Extension at Sugarloaf Mountain, Maine. Partnered with remembering and reconnecting.

By Your Side

I’m here, Sarah,
though I’ve been gone long.
I’m so glad that you continue
 to more deeply discover
the truth of you.
Through the fog,
when things unfreeze,
and as you bask
in soothing moments
of awe
you can anchor
 to the constancy
of our Love
whenever you desire.
Their anger and dysfunction
are not yours,
 never were.
They are not you,
you are not them.
You are you.
Remember -
your soft strength,
caring heart,
sweet soul
have also been constant
through it all.
 Wherever you go,
whatever you choose,
and as you continue
to heal
I’m right here,
 by your side,
 always.

Sarah Carlson
February 1, 2024