My Voice

My Voice

I found it a while ago.
It’s right here on this page,
has proven to be a trusty craft.
I’ve listened to it, honored it,
let it interleave in my healing.
I’ve explored and expressed
inner fronds of dark and light
and everything in between.
And yet sometimes
 when it is the spoken word,
when I say what I feel, think, need,
there’s the possibility of
constriction still.
I wonder,
“Am I complaining,
talking out of turn,
saying anything hurtful or…
wrong?”
My belly begins to ache
and I feel a twitchy energy
that doesn’t resonate with now.
Then I realize that I deserve
 to speak.
I didn’t deserve
 to be stifled -
ever.
My voice is filled
with care, concern, curiosity.
My words are
 sincere, sweet, sonorous.
When I speak and write
I allow light out from within
 and in from Without.
There’s no reason to hold it back.
My voice –
a means of expression
of the magic
of me.

Sarah Carlson

February 20,  2020

Gentle Power of Health

Gentle Power of Health
 

She sits quietly listening,
then ponders, offers, reflects.
With deep empathy
her presence is true.

Embedded in her substance,
it becomes part of her healing
to acknowledge within.

This multi-layered understanding

enlivens a deep achy place
that speaks plainly

 of having witnessed words
used as vehicles of hurt
instead of transporting love.
Caring, listening hearts
were not always available
in her times of need,
but she can speak safely now,
believe in their presence,
take in benevolence
and support.

She knows her tippy-ness 

will remedy

as re-balancing
 takes hold in her now.
She smiles,
 feels the warm,
gentle power of health.
 Compassion for her
own veritable being,
including those places that ache,
wends its way throughout.
Though connection
with others is important, 

 something she still

 often craves,
she enfolds her being,

taking time to care for and about

 her kindhearted self.

Sarah Carlson

February 8, 2020

In and Above

In and Above

There’s health in noticing
an imbalance within,
especially when paired with

a recognition of the solidity
with which one has thrived
in previous precarious predicaments.
There can be a tippy-ness
to inward rearrangement
until one gazes up and out.

Once careful circles above the fray

become more free and easy.
Just as a waxing moon

 can both nestle in
and orbit above
the bare branches of a singular tree,
so can one burrow

and rise.
Gently,
constantly,
palpably
progress occurs
inward and overhead.
Such sweetness
 in pausing to notice
the strength of the shifting,
the grace of the glow,
the power of the potential
 to be
in and above
at the very same time.

Sarah Carlson

February 6, 2020

 

Tender Magic

Tender Magic

Moments 

when the bounty of love
flows free and true,
around and through.
They can peel away layers,
sculpt newness,
allow ease,
provide equilibrium.
What a wondrous sensation
relaxing into
these currents of health
can be.
A pause, a breath,
a time of noticing
what is
right there, right then.
Later,
in times of duress
when pain may come into play,
one can revive
the tender magic
of those moments.
Beautiful blessings
freely available to those
who choose to savor
their soulful significance,
allow them to be an antidote
to whatever may cause distress.

Sarah Carlson

January 26, 2020

The Delicacy of Softening

The Delicacy of Softening

Life lesions leave some parts of us
splintered, spiky, silenced.
As those places awaken,
begin to speak,
we must listen with care
for they have much to teach.
A toughness
may have barricaded them,
formed as necessary protection
from the causes
and effects.
This barrier likely has intricate facets.
As it loosens,
gentleness and kindness
to oneself
is vital.
Inner awareness,
faith in relationship,
belief in one’s validity,
are strong company
for the wonder of revival.
As those once sharp, stiff,
  broken places
mellow and mend
one can appreciate and welcome
the delicacy of softening.

Sarah Carlson

January 16, 2020

So She Moves

Photo by Emma Carlson

So She Moves

Onward.
A step, a stride, a stance,
a push, a pedal, a pause

 at a time.
Relief and renewal
safely nestled within,
solid and secure
she sinks softly
 into her own silky waters,
allowing the light of  Love
to enfold her essence.
She smiles
 with gentle acceptance
for what has been,
open awareness
of what is now,
lighthearted anticipation
and appreciation
for what will be.
Saturated with a billowing
sense of peace,
inner embers aglow
with eclectic energy and
worldly wisdom –
so she moves…
onward
with salient, vibrant, radiant
currents of quiet.

Sarah Carlson

January 7, 2020

True Reflections

Totally True Reflections

As you sit in the stillness,
recognize that you know
how to move forward,
though the way ahead
may be previously unexplored.
You know when to pause and breathe,
soak in the splendor,
contemplate a challenge.
You have the ability to read the winds,
ride the waves,
paddle strong and steady,
adjust the rudder along the way.
You have what you need on board,
including the freedom
to ask for
and receive help.
You are perfectly human
in your own
wonderfully unique way.
And, yet there’s a sameness
in the flow of connection
to others, to nature,
to the Divine.
So, go ahead.
Sit in that stillness.
Let clarity come
in beautiful,
crystal clear,
totally true reflections.
Sit and feel secure
in the solid vessel
that is you.

Sarah Carlson

January 1, 2020

One Love

One Love

Imposed angst had a hold
on your good and caring heart.
Little by little you’ve
found the time and space
to loosen, reclaim, transmute.
You were used to walking hand in hand.
His grip and yours were
gracefully entwined
and you felt safe, held, happy.
You’ve been reaching,
gingerly trying to take hold,
at the same time
striving to let go
with gentleness and compassion.
You know now that I’m here,
just as you need me to be.
Feel free to take my hand
when you long for support.
My light is yours,
your light mine.

Call me whatever you want.
Let go of descriptors
and just feel the love.
It’s there, even when it’s
a challenge to discern.
My love, his love, her love,
their love, and yours.
It’s all the same.
 Embrace the essence.
    Hold it,
                 believe it,
                           cherish it,
                                           walk with it.
It’s real and true.
One Love.

Sarah Carlson

December 17, 2019

Note to Self

Note to Self

Whenever you feel
 that frosty tightness,
just breathe –
 through it, with it,
around it, within it.
Warm your wonderful waters
 simply by beholding
the beauty of now,
allowing archaic agonies
to soften and drizzle away.
Recognize that
your foundation is strong,
your flow genuine.
Though some shadows remain,
trust that you will attend to them
if need be.
Celebrate the gentle peace
that cascades 

through and all around you.
Relax into your
uniquely radiant truth.
Live –
be fully alive,
 enjoy the joyous rhythms
of omnipresent love.

Sarah Carlson

December 9, 2019

How Big is Your Love?

How Big is Your Love?

So much hate all around us.

We experience it

off and on in our own ways,

our own time.
What is hate?

 Its synonyms are a yucky bunch:

loathing, detestation, abhorrence,

aversion, animosity, revulsion,

disgust, contempt, abomination.

Such power they have

 if allowed, witnessed, received.

Yet, even more powerful is the antonym.

That being, love.

Though hate and all its mates 

do exist,

love can be, should be 

stronger.

How big is my love?

Big enough to counteract the hate

that I now understand 

was never about me

or because of me.

I know I live from

a place of love,
always have.

I interact, teach, speak, write

from my heart. 

The more I recognize that truth,

the more I understand

 how monumental love actually is.
As expansive as the sky overhead,

fair weather clouds 

gently flowing by.

As immense as a sandy beach 

at low tide,

bits of mica sparkling together as one

in the light of a late fall sun.

As vast as the rolling ocean

stretching to places unseen,

reflecting that light from above,

its rhythms a comfort to behold.

As magnanimous as a 

generous soul who,

by nature, 

loves with a whole heart. 

It surely is worth contemplating:

How big is your love?

Can you use it to help counteract 

hate and all its mates?

Sarah Carlson

December 1, 2019

In Tandem

In Tandem

Chest tightens, breath restricts,
unease begins to find a grip.
Wonder surfaces,
“What is that?
Why does it visit?
Should I pay attention, or not?”
And then I choose 

the miracle of breath.
That’s it.
I just breathe.
As I do, awareness washes in –
this tightness has a narrative
with a very complex plot.
Over time,
these moments of pause
continue to unravel storylines
that make up this life
I have lived so far.
Some I remember vividly,
others remain in a haze.
Some are valid and true,
others imposed and faulty.
What becomes more and more clear
is that the constriction,
though real in the moment,
does not have to honor
stagnant tales of old.
Those struggles are done
if I let them be.
I have the power to
let my story adapt
as I anchor to those
profound undulations
that present themselves 

along the way.
Just as love entered my life

exactly when I needed it,
so can I embrace,
even ask for,
Divine love.
I can let the obsolete subplot
of fear and doubt flow away
as many times as necessary.
At the very same time,
I can keep my memories of shared love,

that wonderful sense of being 

in tandem,

alive and well within.

Sarah Carlson

November 19, 2019

The Nuances of Change

The Nuances of Change

So many transformations in our lives.
Some colossal and life-changing,
others more delicate and quietly altering.
And, of course,

everything in between.
Recently I’ve been noticing
soft, muted adjustments
in my body, mind, and spirit.
Awareness of these
 involves allowing the power of quiet,
floating in the currents of now.
Sometimes this can be a bit disorienting,
though not uncomfortably so.
Patterns of thought,
once valuable and important,
are gently replaced
with novel undulations
of truth.

Singular grains of sand at low tide
nestle together in a splendid,

though temporary,

display.
Each occupies its rightful place
in shared moments of grandeur.
That’s the story right there,
 right then,
 free for beholding.
Just as majestic
 is the potential shifting
 of the story –
with the winds, the tides,
the drifting of days.
The nuances of change
have a sweet, subtle
radiance of their own. 
Recognizing this provides
for ongoing opportunities
 to reap the benefits
of the rippling out,
as well as
the rippling in.

Sarah Carlson

November 11, 2019

Your Glorious Ripples

I share this with gratitude for these waters, this place - Clearwater Lake, Maine

 Glorious Ripples

There is such a multidimensional losing
 to loss.
One wonders,
“Where did he go? Where am I?
 Who am I? Am I okay? How do I go on?”
Slowly, over time, this losing
can actually turn to finding.

In acknowledging the impact of loss,
it truly is possible to uncover
an eventual sense of gain.
Initially an oppressive weight
 that feels immovable and impenetrable,
grief can be an opportunity to
discover one’s veritable self
and the value of what ripples
out from within.
As one examines disheveled bits and pieces
of what was once a coherent whole,
there emerges the ability to enable them
to rearrange and reintegrate
 in their own way, their own time.
 Arriving at this place 

of letting go, letting be,
letting in, letting out
takes time.

And, that's okay.
Instead of heeding the inclinations
to hide or fend off,
there’s a sweet liberty
and tangible joy of allowing
one’s tenderheartedness to circulate.
Lose, find, heal, be
and you may just make your way to
relishing the reverberations of
your glorious ripples
 as they expand
into your surrounds.

Sarah Carlson

November 2, 2019

Aglow

Aglow

‘Not my fear, not my fear, …’
gently flows through
 my peaceful musings,
accompanied once again
by a sense of visceral release.
This detached dread
 very clearly is not mine.
I know that for sure.
No doubt at all, whatsoever.
As it washes away
inner freedom again expands,
that wide open sense of me
as I truly am.
Then… excitement… followed by,
or maybe mingled with,
the ‘not my fear’ undercurrent.
The beauty of it all is that
I know just what to do.
That being, nothing.
Nothing other than breathe and be,
allow my pure and loving essence
to integrate in my now
 with Divine comfort distinctly present.
I’m tired,
through and through.
But, I don’t care because

partnered with this

fatigue is
a powerful mix of
resilience, hope,
the  joy of being me.
These reflections make me feel
aglow
as the coziness of
the sparkling energy
of health
kindles ever more deeply.

Sarah Carlson

October 17, 2019

Divine Comfort

Divine Comfort

A deep sense of being unseen, 

unheard, unsure within
fabricated by
a slow, shady smothering
had long been her covert companion.
Uncharted exploration
uncovers the warp and weft of

 of love and truth,
enables distinction to spread.
Vulnerability remains present
as she continues her travels.

Sliding through silky waters,
liquid caresses each pore,
wraps her in the softness
 of contentment.
Solid shores surround,
pure fluid supports,
genial clouds hover.
Suddenly rain begins to fall
on the tranquil surface
as dancing ripples widen,
inverted droplets cavort
in a show of celestial grandeur.
She beams and giggles
as the majesty of the
unexpected moment permeates.
Rain subsides, sun peeks,
swimmer settles.
In the stillness

she recognizes the remedy
for that which was inflicted
and took hold before
she knew any better.
She lays back,

finds the courage to more deeply
dispel antiquated guidance,
feel the freedom of her flow,

allow Divine comfort

to enfold and enliven as it
 gently weaves its way into her fabric.

Sarah Carlson

October 7, 2019

Emergence of Hope

I wrote this poem as part of my own processing of feelings and sensations that have come as a result of the explosion in my community last Monday, September 16th. I share this poem with my sincere empathy and compassion for those directly affected by the blast.
I have experienced sudden loss that had direct impact twice in my life - once just days before my 30th birthday when my only brother was killed in a biking accident, and the second at the age of 45 when my husband died while playing tennis with friends. Over time a unique voice emerged that has become my way of telling the more emotional side of a story so my logical side can make some sense of challenging life experiences. I often look back on my writing and feel my heart warm with the recognition that, even when I wasn't fully aware it was there, hope has been a constant.
I took this picture on the way back into Farmington last evening. I had spent the day participating in an organized bike ride and visiting family. It felt healthy to be out and about, but good to be coming home, too. The following poem began forming as I drove and was coming through pretty strongly as I approached town. This scene greeted me as I drove toward Farmington Falls.
I share this with wishes that it may help readers access hope in their own way, in their own time.

Emergence of Hope

Concussive blows,
some quiet and others undeniably loud,
are something we humans experience
in varied ways and, usually,
at unexpected times.
In my small town of Farmington, Maine
we had one of catastrophic size and scope.
In an instant life was lost,
severe injuries happened,
homes destroyed.
The whole town literally shook to its core.
Many students came to school
having heard the blast followed by
 ‘white stuff raining down’ on them at their bus stops.
We teachers were told of an explosion
and the canceling of a yearly field trip
to Agriculture Education Day at our local fair.
With wonders of the cause in the backs of our minds,
 students entering the building
 full of questions for which, at that point,
we had no answers,
we did what teachers do.
Moving into a day of sporadic
information that slowly
painted a profoundly tragic picture,
we gently spent time with the
diverse young beings in our care,
all the while dealing with
varied connections and feelings of our own.
And then a few days later
we wore red in support
 of all who were deeply and directly
 affected by the blast.
Outside on our playground we gathered,
over 300 strong,
a sea of red community spirit.
I happened to be standing near a student
who turned to offer heartfelt support to another.
It took a moment for understanding to come,
as a genuine smile gradually spread
across the receiver’s face.
A beautiful reminder
 of the compassion and resilience
 of our youth,
of us all,
and the undeniable emergence of hope
that can be a such a powerful partner
 to tragedy.

Sarah Carlson

September 22, 2019

Gather

Gather

I carried it for so long,
though I don’t really have words
that properly convey.
I know it to be gloomy, tangly, once mighty.
  I long thought it was stronger than me.
But the antithesis is true.
I am stronger, have always been.
I had to acknowledge it,
explore it for a time,
learn from it
so I could welcome faith
in the currents of now.
Along the way I kept thinking
I had it figured out,
 could set it down and move on.
I’d relax in the flow
and then it would slither in
 from an unnoticed direction,
implore me to pay attention
just when I felt full and free.
So recently, from a place of safety,
I reluctantly listened yet again.
I felt confined by it and distinct from it.
I felt exasperation toward it
and compassion for me.
I felt stale constriction
and hinting liberation.
Though I tried to waylay them,
tears demanded my attention.
Now as underlying,
unneeded intensity lessens,
I can absorb that I am truly okay,
 have the ability to let the muck filter away.
I belong, I am safe, I can trust.
I can believe in mutuality
with the Divine without fear.
Whatever fear attached to that
 simply is not mine,
has no meaning for me.
With fondness for self,
gratitude for growth,
recognition of radiance,
 I softly, tenderly reorient and release.
There may be bits that straggle, or not.
It doesn’t really matter because
they will fall away
 at the opportune time.
I am free to lovingly lighten up,
 gather what this meander reveals.

Sarah Carlson

September 15-22, 2019

In the Currents of Now

This piece has been a long time coming and was challenging to write. It's also one that I was initially reluctant to share, while at the same time it feels right to do so. I decided to not try to figure out the why of that, so here it is.

In the Currents of Now

By the shore of her serene lake
she dips her toes in the water.
With a gentle sigh
she decides to slide all the way in.
Relaxing in the beauty of
her inner landscape,
her vibrant smile reflects
how nice it truly is within.
At the very same time
 deep, stale sorrows swirl
with an energy mostly of release, 

not threat,
though sometimes it is still
hard for her to tell the difference.
She learns to find solace
in not always understanding
 the source or the meaning
of that which goes.
More and more at ease
 with whatever is there,
she lets go the urge to
remember, relive, rerun
distressing scenes of the past.
She encourages her own self
to trust her healing
without trying so hard,
caring too much.
Deep weariness washes away,
replaced by even deeper comfort.
Turning her gaze to the sky above
she feels those stories of so very long ago,
the ones that had her believing
inherent wrongness,
lose their veracity and ferocity.
Her body slackens as a refreshing faith
that feels both foreign and familiar
saturates and revives.
Softly, slowly it dawns on her
that maybe,
just maybe
she can consider herself
a conduit
 to and from the Divine.
The mutuality, relationship
she has been craving
is right there, right here.

Hopeful, she lays back
and floats more fully
in the currents of now.

Sarah Carlson

September 12, 2019

Nice in Here

Nice in Here

I feel as if I’m moving
all the way in.
Like some places were off limits before,
or maybe were taken up by things
recently vacated.
Either way, I love the sensation
of filling in my own far reaches.
When it happens I access more keenly
that boundless expanse
I once thought did not include me.
 I have a limitless, unencumbered
sense of being,
a nowness that seamlessly blends
 wild child wonder
with poetic wisdom.
These words don’t really do justice
to what these feelings are like.
In fact,
as I watch my pencil
slide across the page of my journal,
hand illuminated by the evening sun,
it’s almost as if I don’t know
who is doing the writing,
though the described sensations
are strong and true.
Not a dissociation at all,
but more like a re-association
as my tender tones
settle into a sweet and steady harmony.
Simply a delightful newness of
my experience of me.
I like it
and I’m finding
that it’s really quite
nice in here.

Sarah Carlson

August 27, 2019

Right There, Right Then

White Point Beach, Nova Scotia

Right There, Right Then

Low fog lessens over the horizon
as waves swell, crest, roll–
again and again and again.
A mesmerizing cadence
that gently transfixes
those who sit and settle
on the rocky beach.
Seaweed sways back and forth,
accompanied by the sumptuous sound
of salty liquid lapping onto land.
Feet sink into soft sand
as body eases,
mind lulls,
spirit widens.
Breath moves with shared energy
as ocean rhythms meld
with inner tempos.
Nothing to do
but be

 right there,
right then.

Sarah Carlson

August 19, 2019

Incoming Tides

Hopewell Rocks - New Brunswick, Canada

Incoming Tides

Strong and solid she stands,
despite diverse forces that
once threatened her core.
A near constant barrage of things that,
looking back,
she understands were not of her
or about her.
However, they did
create discord where
harmony should have been.
More and more she internalizes
that those days are over,
need not injure her any further.
She can almost see herself
as a miracle of survival
when her rhythms hum
with lively abandon –
like waves rolling
onto a sandy beach,
water dispersing to wherever
it needs to go.
It is her health,
the beam of her inner truth,
that leads the way,
has all along.
More and more she feels its warmth
can bask in its vitality,
comprehends its boundless nature.
She experiences the effect

 of her genuine presence,

both within herself and on others,
relaxes ever more deeply
into her being
as sediments stir and settle
with incoming tides
of assurance, peace, awareness,
and Love.

Sarah Carlson

August 12, 2019

In the Stillness

Oak Island, Nova Scotia

 

 

In the Stillness

Ever so slowly sunlight widens
as night gives way to morning.
Though birds do chitter
and soft breezes stir,
there’s a serene quiet 
to those moments of transition
as human rhythms thrum.
Keen mind settles,
 gentle heart pulsates,
breath comes easily.
As she wakens and reflects,
she notices
a deeper sense of immersion.
In the activity of
sharing stories
with new people,
pedaling long distances
on unfamiliar roads,
letting go of a
need to hold back
 or keep up,
a novel aspect of calm presents.
In the stillness
there exists an ever more
vivid, dynamic, limitless
sense of being.

Sarah Carlson

August 11, 2019

A Sense of Place

Our wonderful kayak guide during our snack stop in Blue Rocks, Nova Scotia

I recently had the good fortune of being invited to join a group for a Pedal and Sea Adventures bike and kayak vacation. It was an amazing week of pedaling along the southern shores of Nova Scotia. In the middle of the week we went on a four hour guided kayak expedition by Pleasant Paddling. This poem came both from that experience and that of having two bike guides who had given us a sense of place in the prior days, sharing with us so much about this part of Nova Scotia, which is their home. I'm so grateful to have had these experiences and to return to my own special place in the world, my home, as well.

A Sense of Place

The group follows their gentle guide
along a shoreline formed by
foliated slabs of blue-gray slate.
Every so often they pause to listen
to his tales of flora, fauna,
history of the area.
Fish shacks, golden seaweed,
varied birds, curious seals
all a part of the experience.
The manner in which
 he delivers his message
gives the listener a deep
sense of place
as his pride and youthful wisdom
weave their way
 into and through his words.
Onward they paddle,
each settling more and more
into a sense of place
of their own
as they ponder
 the wonder within,
the splendor that surrounds,
the beauty that is
 Blue Rocks, Nova Scotia.

Sarah Carlson

August 11, 2019

Happy to Be

I was feeling quite a sense of freedom, particularly on my right side, as I rode my bike into town yesterday for an early morning jaunt. I stopped to let a truck pass and, when I went to push off and turn left, I felt a slackness of my chain and knew I couldn't clip out. Over I went, hard onto my left side. A very nice woman and her daughter stopped to see if I was okay. I insisted that I was, though touched by their kindness and concern. Stubbornly I proceeded with my ride, checking in with myself every so often to see if it was true, that I was okay. I definitely am, but I have to admit that I am feeling the tumble a bit more today.
Apparently there's a poem in just about any life experience. From this one here is what came:

Happy to Be

On the one hand
pain, embarrassment, unease.
On the other
vigor, peace, liberty.

 The first will happen
from time to time,
but need not be the norm.
The second can and should be
accessed, allowed, honored,

will aid in the continued lessening
of once powerful, troubling currents.
The being in the middle of it all
more and more trusts
the efficacy and validity
of her travels.
When she tumbles,
she gets back up,
checks in,
asks for help when needed.
She relishes the times when she can
sink further into her being,
relax by a shore,
enjoy the calm energy
of mountains, waters, sky.
In those moments she feels
settled and sure,
radiant and right,
full and free.

She is
happy to be

in the daunting, 

daring,

definite,

delicate,

divine

 moments of her life.

Sarah Carlson

July 29, 2019

The Gifts That Nestle Within

Somehow a combination of ski experiences surfaced as a metaphor for processing some summertime shifts.

The Gifts That Nestle Within

Sturdy, athletic, vibrant –
she lays her skis on edge,
carves graceful arcs

in the freshly groomed snow.
She loves this trail for its openness,

precise fall lines,
the possibility that someone

might notice her skill and talent.
At the very same time
there trickles within her body
wariness, worry, foreboding.
Does she still need to fend off, protect

 or is it safe to fully let go, let flow?
The unease is slight,
 feels musty,
but is clearly present.
She stops and gazes over
the valley of her youth.
Breathing in the cool, crisp mountain air
she honors what was,
 feels the tenseness
of those deep, dank places
 soften yet again,
smiles with appreciation of the shift.
Body, mind, spirit slowly and gently
continue to settle into
a less impeded flow,

a crystallizing recognition
 of the gifts that nestle within

and the gentleness with which
she allows them out into
the light of day.
Spirit free, heart full, mind settled,
she gives a slight push, 

glides down the slope,

delights in the rhythms

of her singular mountain dance.

Sarah Carlson

July 26, 2019

Believe

I'm in the process of putting together a second book. With that comes an interesting mix of confidence and doubt. As my wonderful book designer calls it - I'm in the 'swirly' stage. Yesterday while biking I saw this lovely little pond in a pasture. I knew I needed a picture, as often happens. Later, as I sat for a time of mindfulness, this moment surfaced. At the same time I realized that I had a poem finding its way through. 

An important reminder for all of us, I believe...

Believe

Inner wisdom softly speaks
with a reminder to trust
those spaces and places
where knowing resides.
Even when things feel stuck
and pain is strong.
Even when you swirl
with things untamed, unnamed.
Even when those spiky spots
need a voice.
Continue to pause, breathe,
acknowledge.
Keep honoring the seeds
that have been sown
on your journey towards
unconditional Love
experienced unconditionally.
Let them sprout, grow, blossom
in their own way,
in their own time
as they have and will.
You know
when to wander and wonder,
soothe and saturate,
accept and allow.
You aren’t unseen
if you see your own
wonderful and unique self.
Believe all the way
in that Love,
in this you.
Just do it…
believe.

Sarah Carlson

July 17, 2019

See Me?

See Me?

Adorable toddler lurches across the grass asking,
“See me? See me, Mommy?”
His mother smiles, knowing
that her child wants to be in her arms.
And she wants that child in hers
just as much.
She picks him up and his body
seems to melt into hers
as mother love, child love
converge into
tender moments of togetherness.
She sees him in a most deep
and loving way,
knows he sees her
seeing him.
Time passes,
challenges come,
heartache happens.
Mother love stays strong,
though not as easily merged.
She sees him still, the two of them,
now adults, both.
The sense of being unseen, though,

stirs around within
and she realizes it stems
from bygone years and
her own grief.
Now inner wisdom

 helps her understand that
though she might feel, or actually be,
unseen in some situations
it does not mean she is not there.
What’s important is that she see
and experience her
very own self
right here, right now.
See me?
Yes, I most definitely do,
my love.
I see you.
Do you see me seeing you?

Sarah Carlson

July 10, 2019

Messages of a Different Silence

Massachusetts Veterans Memorial Cemetery in Agawam, MA

Messages of a Different Silence

It’s been so long since we’ve talked.
You visit in my dreams,
in natural connections,
in the energy of love continued.
But, you are always quiet.
It’s up to me
to notice, define, embrace.
Your brother had a wish
that you and he and your dad
be honored and rest together.
I had given him some of your ashes,
though the rest remain with me.
So, for the first time since you died,
I see a singular gravestone
with your name on it.
It’s in a place that is unfamiliar to me,
but there it is, you are.
At first it is surreal,
especially coming on the heels
of processing multifaceted grief
at a retreat in silence.
As I stand there with your sister
and let the sensations sink in,
 I feel the love of a father
and twin brothers
who served our country,

graced our family
in diverse ways
for so many years.
I am awash in
 gratitude, pride,
relationship,
and healthy sorrow.
Messages of a
very different,
though just as powerful,
 silence.

Sarah Carlson

July 10, 2019

Messages of Silence

Hudson River Valley from West Point

I recently returned from the Mindful Schools Mindful Teacher Certification Program opening retreat at the Garrison Institute in the Hudson Valley. Though we were on the bank of the river, I didn't get a full sense of the beauty of the valley until we crossed the Bear Mountain Bridge and visited West Point on the way home. But, I know I had the sense of it, felt the energy of it all week.
This poem is an attempt to capture the amazing and challenging experience of participating in 2 1/2 days of silence at the beginning of the retreat.

Messages of Silence

On the edge of the Hudson –
emergence of connection,
then silence.
Sit, walk, feel, eat, sleep… repeat.
Individual tears of heartache, sorrow,
joy, revelation.
Together, yet separate,
each person’s inner adventure unique.
This human, this poet
experiences deep grief
from sources known, sources not.
In honoring that, sitting with it,
there emerges a more clear
sense of strength, sureness, wisdom,
accomplishment, health.
Beyond words and sounds
 one accesses the essence
of insight, belonging,
peace, love.
A sensation that,
though boundless,
 eventually feels safe and secure
 in a most fluid way.
Currents ebb and flow
in whatever direction is necessary
for that person at that time.
Inner radiance pulsates
with the veracity of awareness
as the promise of
an undefined, yet palpable
 community begins to form.
The banks determine
 the course of a river,
but waters within
find their own way,
in their own time,
mingling with that
which is true and right.
Such are the messages of silence.

Sarah Carlson

July 8, 2019

When We Were Four

When We Were Four

Our family –
mother, father, son, daughter.
For more than 17 years
we were four.
So much love -
betwixt and between,
through the joys and challenges
of growing up,
living life.
But one spring day,
in an instant,
we became three.
Everything we knew felt askew,
 yet onward we went
each rearranging our pieces
in our own ways,
in our own time.
Emotions surface and show,
or get bundled up and put away
for another time.
Neither right, nor wrong
we’ve done the best we can
along the way
as we readjust and reorient,
uncover the radiance in change.
Though we did
suddenly become three
on that day so long ago,
there's a curative, bountiful power

in remembering the love
that we shared
when we were four.

Sarah Carlson

June 24, 2019