Just Run With It

Photo by Emma Carlson

 Just Run With It

So much growth and change
all the year through,
with shared adventures
on board.
Once again we stand
hand in hand
as briny surf and soft sand
churn and whirl about our feet.
Last year’s fear
is but a memory
and he lets go,
frolics gleefully
with strength and sureness,
quite literally
goes with the flow.
Just two and a half
and he listens,
        learns,
            trusts,
        reminds
that there are times
when one can
drop in,
feel the freedom
to just run with it,
welcome each moment
with wild and gentle abandon.

Sarah Carlson
July 27, 2023

Alone on a Beach

 Alone on a Beach

The tide shifts,
 waters reach ever higher,
sand swirls and settles anew.
My cadence slows
in the softness of the fog
and soothing ocean rhythms.
I pause to look both ways.
Not another human being in sight,
though I know others are walking, too.
For just a few minutes
I am
totally alone
 on this lovely beach.
I turn to the ocean,
watch waves crest and roll,
feel a sense of rebalancing.
How amazing it is that
        the wide horizon
                            and warm sunshine
                                    are out there,
            though not always in view.
Even in times when we feel
                    cut off
                or closed in
            or alone
                there is always
light
        and hope
                    and potential,
        if only we continue
to remember
the gentle goodness
of trusting in Love.

       Sarah Carlson
July 11, 2023

A Friend in Me

Evening View from Campsite 44 - Cobscook Bay State Park, ME

 

This piece came over the past few days. It was easy and difficult to write, has unfolded as the day Barry and I were married approached. 

I smile with memories of our garden wedding 44 years ago, the years we shared together as a family, and the joy I access in my life now. I hold gently the residual ache of missing him these 21 years. 

A Friend in Me

Thoughtful eyes
that absorb, fathom, reflect.
Benevolent arms
that anchor, carry, embrace.
Kindred souls
that bond, fortify, balance.
This,
an attempt to capture
what we had,
what I miss.
This,
my way to ponder,
learn, heal, grow.
I know the Love we shared endures.
I see it in and around
waters, landscape, sky.
I sense it within my confines
and ever wider.
I honor it as tides shift
and I relax in my distinctive flow.
It’s the absence of day-to-day friendship
that dampens me now.
The tender touch
of hands held
as we took an evening stroll.
The shared joy
 of watching our amazing
children grow.
The quiet listening
 when things were hard
or confusing or hurtful.
These past few years
have contained much
that challenged.
It would have been easier,
so much less lonely,
had you been by my side.
I feel left
 with a lack of camaraderie,
baffled as to why
those who were close
have faded away.
I think it healthy now
to let the wondering wane,
take comfort in
the open-hearted,
beautiful friend
you found in me.

Sarah Carlson
June 27-29, 2023

Reach and Stretch and Strive

Reach and Stretch and Strive

You climb much higher
than I think you can go.
I stand close,
as grandmothers do,
though I know to let you
reach and stretch and strive.
You give your all
in everything you do,
while feeling free
to ask for a hand
or a lift
or a cuddle
when you have a need.
Like when mosquitos swarm
on a biking trail,
just after the fun
of chasing dragonflies
across a wooden bridge.
“Carry me, Oma!”
you say with
sweet conviction.
And, somehow,
I summon strength
I didn’t know I had
until right there,
right then.
I hang your bike on mine,
carry you first on one side,
then the other
and onward we go.
Being with you
is so incredibly inspirational
as we reach and stretch and strive
together.

    Sarah Carlson (Oma)
June 25, 2023

Robust Intricacy

 Robust Intricacy

I look to my garden,
  notice the deep purple
of the first bloom
in a patch of Irises
that hold complex memories
for me.
I pause and breathe,
roll back my shoulders,
stretch into the day.
In good time,
I bend to look
closely
at the robust intricacy
of this hearty blossom,
even with some parts of it
yet to unfurl.
My attention
                    widens
                            a bit
 and I see it surrounded
 by others
not yet open.
I feel warm
and comfortable
within,
paired with a loving
sense of faith.
I smile
with an awareness
that right here,
right now,
that’s really
                  all
                            I need.

Sarah Carlson
June 9, 2023

Tangible Reminders

Photo by Emma Carlson

 Tangible Reminders

Today our grandson
had his tiny hand on his heart
as the flag went by
in a Memorial Day parade.
We all did -
Mama, Oma, Grandma
and Otto.
Grandma told stories
about how Grandpa Al
had such pride and honor
for our flag,
and how Dada does, too.
I shared memories
of  Barry (now Opa),
showing respect
with his hand on his heart
so many times
over the years.
A day of
remembering
and missing
for both sides
of a little boy’s family.
His interest in
 stories and memories,
his wit and adventurous nature,
tangible reminders
that both grandfathers
truly do live on
in him.

Sarah Carlson
Memorial Day
May 29, 2023

The Intangible

 The Intangible

I’ve been cleaning out
this home,
deciding what
to keep in my now.
Many things are easy to let go
and I happily pass them on.
The champagne glasses
from our wedding
puzzle me at first.
I don’t seem to want them,
but why?
After a toast
with family and friends,
you surreptitiously kept
these very glasses
that I now contemplate.
I take them outside,
sit on the deck,
allow wondering
to ebb and flow.
Awakening trees
reflect and refract
in their glass
as they nestle and sparkle
in the springtime sun.
A symphony of birdsong
settles my being
as understanding slowly unfurls.
It’s the intangible
 that so often provides
deep comfort.
Just when I least expect it
I see, feel, hear what it is
that these glasses actually hold.
I am reminded that
you are everywhere,
including right here -
wherever it is
that I am.

Sarah Carlson
May 29, 2023

Apple Blossoms and Snowflakes

 Apple Blossoms and Snowflakes

There are times in life
when it’s hard to make sense
of what is right in front of you.
For me, this happens when
what I thought I knew
is not entirely true
and things just feel askew.
Often this intrigues me
and I look within it all
for hope and newness.
Other times it makes
my body ache and
my soul weep
as my mind
strives to understand.
Eventually, though,
I can settle
into sweet support
and deeper awareness of ME.
I think of my two-year-old grandson,
who said upon waking early one morning
during a winter sleepover,
“What’s going on in here?
It’s time to turn the lights on!”
Such good advice…
And, so I do.
Turn the lights on, that is.
Allow illumination to find
what I need,
and let the rest be
as best I am able.
Like a spring evening
when apple blossoms
and snowflakes
share the same space
in one’s front yard,
or looking to the horizon
when fields are greening
and some mountains are still white.
Things that seem discordant
can actually peacefully
and beautifully coexist.
Thanks, Otto,
for once again
pointing out that
which is true.

Sarah Carlson
May 19, 2023

Be Two, Be True

Photo by Emma Carlson

Be Two, Be True

We sit by a lake,
feel the wind in our hair,
watch whitecaps
dance in the distance.
We listen to birdsong,
enjoy Grandma’s flowers,
see pictures in the clouds
with Mama -
as she and I once did
with my father.
We listen to a song
that Dada sang
opening oatmeal,
have a belly laugh
all together.
We explore and wonder,
ask and answer,
feel big feels,
whatever they may be.
We cuddle on the couch
with ‘our’ book
finding all the
pictures and poems
about our earliest
moments together.
He slowly leans back,
gently holds my face,
nestles his to mine.
I breathe deeply,
immerse in these pure
moments of shared love.
Once again I marvel
at the simple elegance
of his essence,
and the wonder
of being two,
being so
                    fully
                                true.

Sarah Carlson (Oma)
May 15, 2023

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

Tender Travel

 Tender Travel

Skiing free on a wilderness lake,
eyes to the sky,
attune to the energy of
the environs,
a gentle awareness
continues to kindle within.
We humans usually think of travel
as going from one place to another -
perhaps by plane or train,
car or bus,
pedal or foot.
We like to expand our horizons
by going someplace new
and different.
Here I am, though,
in a familiar valley
feeling a loving warmth
spread throughout my being.
I stop for a moment and breathe,
honor the courage I carry along
as I wander within
 to heal.
One tiny human in the expanse,
more and more I understand that
I truly am here and there
and everywhere.
We all are.
The horizon includes us,
each and every one,
from our very core
to as far as we can see
and beyond.
For so long I felt like an outsider.
How soothing it is to feel
the freedom of being
both outside and in
at the very same time.
Tender travel that tells all,
once we learn to listen.

Sarah Carlson
March 24, 2023

Deep Love

 Deep Love

Childhood Love,
so open and pure,
kept me trying so very hard
to help.
Nanny Love,
has returned to me,
reminds me,
stays with me
just as I need it to be.
Quagmire Love,
reached through the murk,
allowed so much light
in and around and through,
 both sustains me
 and has made healing a challenge.
Mommy and Daddy Love.
In tandem we treasured the
very essence of their beings
as they grew.
How grateful I am to be able
to do so still.
Oma Love.
 the richness of it
brings it all back around
with gentle goodness
as his essence both
 expands and enfolds.
As I stop
to breathe, notice,
bathe in the simple splendor
of an evening cloud
that tickles the treetops,
illuminates the beauty of
both light and dark,
I quietly honor
the presence of
Deep Love
within and without.

Sarah Carlson
February 20, 2023

Quagmire Love

 Quagmire Love

An explorer of the deep,
part of what drew us together
all those years ago.
He was an observer,
a thinker,
a lover of life
and family.
The shock of his death,
for me,
shifted slowly
to an opportunity
to investigate organic
aspects of my roots.
Hard work
without a doubt.
We all have some amount
of murkiness within.
When we choose to explore
we can discover
grace in the gloaming,
space in the stillness,
majesty in the murk.
We can pause along
a winter river,
notice the beauty of
tannins in the water,
patterns in the ice,
freedom of unfrozen falls.
We can choose to relax
into our sweet selves,
honor how we have
made our way,
feel the strength
of our unique flow,
We can rest on our laurels,
feel the Love,
with ease.

Sarah Carlson
February 3, 2023

Beyond

 Beyond

I walk along a winter river,
listen to its soothing flow.
Soul loosens,
Spirit visits,
I attune to what I know.
I sense an awareness
on the periphery
of my thoughts
as memories meander
through my lovely mind.
I think of my Nanny,
 her love so free and pure,
her tiny apartment a haven
from all that made me unsure.
I remember the distress of her death
which shifts gently to
a connection
of grandmother to grandmother.
I could feel the warmth of
of love transcending linear time,
 our light nestled together once again.
Her love for me,
like my love
for my children, my grandson,
carries no need, no room
for remorse or encumbrance.
It’s a consistent flow
that wends through everything
from whitewater wildness
to slushy, slow moving murk.
I’m left with a sort of circuitous,
elemental sensation,
clear of interference,
that I try to find words to fit.
I rest easy, let go,
as I realize
that at least some of it
is, in truth,
beyond.

Sarah Carlson
January 12, 2023

The Wonder of the Moment

 The Wonder of the Moment

The soft, familiar longing
that accompanies each new year
has once again
shifted within.
I can feel it without
judgment or regret,
let tears trickle or flow
 if there is a need
without even trying to
identify the source.
The biggest change, however,
 is an ever growing reconnection
to the sense of wonder I felt
from the day we met.
I feel it blossom when
I teach in new ways,
spend time with our children,
write these very words.
It swirls and saturates
as our precious grandson
rekindles
a visceral connection
to the joys of
discovery and awe.
Like the magic of noticing
 the bell you were given
on a Christmas Train
looks just like the one in the book
that your Oma reads to you
on a winter’s eve
as she tucks you into bed.
AND, having the words
to express the truth and
wonder of the moment.
I’m so grateful to be heading
 into the newness
of 2023 with all of this
aboard.

Sarah Carlson
December 31, 2022

Tender Light Softens - Video exerpt from Tender Light Softens: When the Deep Places Speak

 This is one of my favorite poems from my new book. It was written after a cross country ski at my local ski area on March 4, 2020 as the pandemic was approaching. It's an example of a piece that continues to speak to me in new and varied ways and that touches others in whatever ways they might need in their own lives.

Solstice Sensations

 Solstice Sensations

 I sit  by a tree
that is essentially just for me,
 treasure the coziness
of its gentle glow
as it mingles with the dark.
I smile at the memories
that each ornament contains,
feel the light of your love
and gratitude for the loves
our children have found.
With bright anticipation
of Christmas with our
two-year-old grandson,
the radiance of his joy
and daily discoveries,
I honor the softness
of ever more settling within.
There is some stiffness still.
Yet, like the shafts
of a low December sun
that make their way
through snow covered trees,
there is always
hope in the hollows,
glimmer through the gloom,
energy of ease.
During these times
I savor the wholesomeness
of finding company
in the gentle goodness
of me.
Solstice sensations
that, though unexpected,
I receive and embrace
gratefully.

Sarah Carlson
December 21, 2022

Faith That Reveals

Faith That Reveals

In this softening of my soul,
there is a liberation of spirit and emotions.
I woke up at least twice last night
with a gasp,
followed by tears,
and even a visit of anger.
I feel a sort of stuckness
in my hips and spine,
as if something
that has been impeded,
or even tethered,
is soon to be freed.
I know this to be good,
and it is also hard
to experience solo.
I’m going to let it unfold as it will,
maybe reach out for help….
Ohhhhh… there it is.
That must be at least part of what
needs to go.
The sense of failure that
still pesters just beyond
my awareness
when I feel vulnerable
and have a need.
The memories harbored in my body
of being negated
when I dared to ask, speak,
wonder, cry.
There, I’ve named it.
Maybe that will help
and my faith will continue to reveal.
I’ll find balance
in these reflections,
which include how brave I’ve been
to access healing,
process so much alone,
share my poetry along the way.

Sarah Carlson
November 12, 2022

A Serene Softening

A Serene Softening

A recent experience
of feeling safe, buoyant,
held yet again,
enables an intricate mix
of vulnerability and courage
to stir deep within.

Outworn, inflicted patterns,
once carefully concealed,
are bathed in light,
given the opportunity
to disperse, absorb, transmute
in whatever ways are right.
Dynamic stillness
yields ever more opportunity
to notice, honor, allow
with far less tension and disquiet.
This can feel drifty, muffled, vague
as when winds or rains
interrupt crystal clear reflections.
What glee there can be
when those images resettle,
 can be observed
with fresh awareness,
insight, and delight.
When one was taught that
needing help means weakness or failure,
which was essentially only true for you,
the recognition of the bold energy it has taken
to look deep and up and out
since the loss of a Love that anchored
is both validating and liberating.
There’s a serene softening of the soul.
Rest calmly on solid banks
as confusion clears,
 energy enlivens
in your depths, in the wideness,
and within the faith that reveals.

Sarah Carlson
November 11, 2022

Golden Nuggets

 Golden Nuggets

Along a dirt road,
autumn leaves mostly down,
bright yellow poplar leaves
catch our eye.
We stop,
gaze upward
to enjoy
those that quake
on lofty branches
against a backdrop
 of brilliant blue.
A memory unfolds
of a second grade student,
who gently touched my arm
on a walking field trip
in local woods
as he noticed a similar scene.
Often quiet and detached,
something in him
enlivened.
.“Look!” he gasped.
“They’re like golden nuggets
dancing in the sun!”
I can still feel the moment,
revisit our tandem smiles,
from all those years ago.
A delightful golden nugget
for a retired teacher
walking in places
anew.

Sarah Carlson
October 29, 2022

October Swim

 October Swim

A warm sun
speaks of summer,
though Autumn
has surely arrived.
Pleasantly surprised
when the water whispers
in agreement,
 she plunges
all the way in.
As always,
the combination
of buoyancy and freedom
enlivens and invigorates.
Maple leaves catch her eye
as they float gently by –
timely reminders
of detaching,
    shifting,
        realigning
happening deep within
 and all around.
She allows herself to
savor the currents,
rejoice in the ripples,
appreciate the radiance
of change yet again.
The beauty of this October swim
has been held in her heart since then.
And so she writes to capture
such moments
of connection
in poetry –
which she boldly gathers
are, in essence,
her prayers.

Sarah Carlson
October 15, 2022

Remember

Photo by Emma Carlson

 

This is a piece written a month or so ago about an experience with this wonderful boy (and his Mama) at Reid State Park, Maine.

 

Remember

Ocean waves crest and roll
onto the beach where we stand
hand-in-hand.
Waters recede,
sand slides away
beneath our feet.
His tiny hand grips hard
and a gasp rushes forth.
I feel the energy of his fear,
pick him up in my arms,
gently let him know
we are safe
right there together.
I realize that something I have
experienced many times
is yet another first for him.
My awareness opens wide,
 along with my heart,
and he slowly settles into
my loving care.
The ground did move,
it felt as if we were sinking.
Yet, solid we are
in our togetherness.
Thank you once again,
sweet Otto,
for helping me remember
the gentle goodness
of trusting in Love.

Oma (Sarah Carlson)
August 31, 2022

Tender Variations

 

I recently did a reading at a library here in Maine. One listener remarked about how there is so much movement and hope in my pieces. And, it made me wonder - did I gloss over the difficulties that led to the words and images that flow? Another listener remarked about how she has been intrigued by the beauty and nuances of shades of gray. I've been pondering that reading, those reactions, since then. This piece came over the past few days.

Tender Variations

I’ve been digging through
this house of mine
and it’s amazing
what I’ve unearthed.
I know these things
have been here all along,
and I am so happy to be
  seeing them with fresh perspective.
Some are written evidence of
turbulent times and troubled thoughts
that seemed so black and white
way back when.
Holding them anew allows me
to enfold or disperse,
contemplate or dismiss,
follow my genuine desires.
Some of them I crumple up,
put them in my wood stove,
let them quietly burn.
They glow, curl, dissipate.
Whispers of comfort and vigor
fill my being
as smoke coils up and out.
I honor the
distress that was,
recognize the dissolution,
welcome the space provided
by letting go.
The pain and loneliness
of dysfunction and loss
are real and true.
Yet, we humans have
an amazing capacity
to act from a place
of grace and hope
when we so choose.
From there
 edges can soften,
shades of gray enlighten,
tender variations
reveal the truth of
unconditional Love.

Sarah Carlson
August 18, 2022

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