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

The Power of Love

On this the 20 year mark of Barry's death, I share with so much gratitude for having had the time I did with him, for the children we raised, for the grandson who brings so much light and love to our lives, and for the ways I have found to grow along the way.

 

 The Power of Love

Taking an evening stroll
around our loop,
paddling to a favorite rock
on the shore of a quiet lake,
seeing a familiar twinkle
in the eyes of our grandson.
My thoughts circle back
 to tender memories,
softly tinged with missing you,
that continue to hold so true.
Sacred fog may surround,
 clouds may open
to the warmth of the sun
or the tenderness of
a glowing moon.
You are there, here
with us all.
The deep despair
of your passing
has slowly transformed
to a gentle grief.
Not a burden to carry,
more a sweet reminder
of the power of  Love.
I felt it when we met,
through our lives together,
on the day you died.
I feel it still,
a constant source
as I continue to explore,

absorb,
and heal.

Sarah Carlson
May 29-30, 2022

Subtle Grandeur

 

I haven't been writing as much lately, which has actually felt good. I've been allowing myself to rest in the sacred fog that I wrote about a few weeks ago.

I'm now right in the middle of what I affectionately call Weird Week. It starts with May 22, the day my brother died in 1987. The next day is my husband Barry's birthday. He would have been 80 this year. Today is my birthday and then May 29th will mark 20 years since Barry died. 

I had a moment after an osteopathic treatment yesterday where I felt a shift in how I usually experience this week and this poem is an attempt to capture that. I can't really tell how it might come across, but it felt very good to write.

The photo was taken last Sunday (May 22nd) at a gathering of family and friends atop Mt. Washington.

Subtle Grandeur

One beautiful spring day,
20 years ago,
life changed dramatically.
Eventually I chose to
walk into the grief
of such a sudden loss.
There has been
 both murkiness and clarity
along the way,
the path
filled with
challenges and shifts,
flowing tears,
 and billowing joys.
I’ve landed
in a place where I can
honor the pain of loss,
 the depth of love shared,
 the person I have become.
Imperfectly perfect
just as I am,
I ground
to the accomplishments
all these years have contained.
 I sit atop a mountain
precious grandson in my lap,
both our children nearby.
I breath a contented sigh
as I look to mountain waves
that stretch
across the horizon.
Subtle grandeur that contains
 stillness and movement,
grace and peace,
hope and promise,
and so very much love.

Sarah Carlson
May 26, 2022

 

Sacred Fog

 Sacred Fog

As one drops in
and widens,
there can be a sense
of being in a sort of
sacred fog.
There is a softness here.
Though that which
 once anchored
has altered,
there is safety, too.
Rhythmic waves
create a gentle harmony
that blends with breath and heart.
Vastness may not be visible,
yet is both discernible
and inclusive.
This sacred fog
can allow for
that which aches or tugs
or threatens
to disperse
as light once more
works its way
around and through
from above.

Sarah Carlson
May 11, 2022

The Quiet Beauty of You

 

The Quiet Beauty of You

Slow down.
Feel the energy
of an emerging sun,
awakening trees,
distant mountains,
warming waters.
Let awareness
of your sweet self
deepen and widen
as you reflect
and are reflected.
Inhale… draw in.
Exhale… be drawn out
for as many agains
as you need.
Let tension soften,
effort rest,
wonderings pause
for however long
they do.
Slow down even more.

Stand or sit or lay
in stillness
and see what comes,
what goes,
what settles anew.
No right,
no wrong,
no need to judge.
Stop, breathe,
allow yourself
to relax into
the quiet beauty
of you.

Sarah Carlson
April 11, 2022

 

The Broken Can Blossom

 

The Broken Can Blossom

My attention drifts out
the kitchen window
as I ponder an issue
I have been grappling with
for quite some time.
My body is a bit tense,
but my eyes are soft
as my focus is actually within.
Slowly, ever so slowly,
my awareness is captured
by a plant on the windowsill.
Not just any plant, though.
An orchid that had been cherished
by my mother
and hasn’t bloomed since
her death almost two years ago.
There’s a stem with several buds
and a branch, almost fully separated,
 that bends around the back of the pot.
I turn it slowly,
breathe in deeply
as my eyes focus
 on a blossom that had been
quietly seeking the sun
without my knowing.
A slow smile extends
throughout my being.
Ah yes,
the broken can blossom.
And when they do,
there is beauty that is
intricate and profound
and deeply genuine.
What a gift for all
 who choose to see.

Sarah Carlson
April 4, 2022

Wake More Fully to Beauty

 Wake More Fully to Beauty

A settled being,
now restless with
a wanting to understand,
 be understood,
in a situation that is static and stale.
A deep despair at a lack of success,
not knowing what else to do or say.
She opens her eyes to a dark house,
though she knows her light
to be true.
She gazes out the window
as the late winter sun slowly
makes its way through the darkness,
illuminates a surprising scene.
Drawn out the door,
she turns her face to the sky,
 takes in the still softness
of an unexpected snow.
She smiles at the message
to wake more fully to beauty—
that which surrounds
and that which resides within.

Sarah Carlson
March 16, 2022

Illumine

 Illumine

Ah, yes.
Here comes
the widening light
of late winter.
Its soft comfort reaches
that which had been,
or at least felt,
stiff and static
with an energy that
brings hope
and promise
and flow.
Sometimes when it
illumines
deep, dark places
there may be a lull
before loosening,
 a need
to shade one’s eyes
or even turn away
 for time to adjust
to that which stirs.
When it feels right,
one can
appreciate the
dynamic interplay
of shadows and shimmers,
let relief and renewal
unfold as they will,
and come home
to oneself
yet again.

Sarah Carlson
March 4-8, 2022

A Hope-Finder

 A Hope-Finder

I stand in a familiar valley,
sensations of rich sadness
and vibrant health
somehow coexisting within.
I stop and breathe,
honor the tension of
 that which seems
so diametrically opposed.
I gaze to the mountain
that has been part of my life
since before I can remember.
Such a mix of joy and sorrow
on its slopes and at its base.
I sigh.
A sad smile slowly widens
as I realize that through it all,
I have been a hope-finder,
an embracer and recorder
 of oh-my-gosh moments.
Some of the tension
 releases with a sweet gentleness.
There is a depth and a width
to that which goes,
partnered once again
with a recognition
 of growth and healing.
The strength and sacredness
of the surrounds
allow for reorientation
to Divine truth,
 enfolding the energy
of all inclusive Love.
Deeper, wider,
beautifully benign,
with hope and abundance that
is there for us all.

Sarah Carlson
February 24, 2022

Tender Light Softens, Still

 Tender Light Softens, Still

Early morning
after a prolific winter storm.
I ski through familiar woods,
trees and trail
cloaked in fleecy snow
that sparkles underfoot.
Mellow morning sun
slowly warms the frosty air
as clouds gently disperse.
At the top of the ridge I
pause in the peace of the pines,
welcome the wisdom of the woods,
bathe in the benevolence
 and beauty of it all
once again.
 Tensions
of life in a pandemic lessen
as I turn to descend.
I let my skis fly,
enjoy a giggle that surfaces,
feel my self enliven.
My thoughts drift back to the days
just before COVID
as we wondered what was coming.
I honor what we as a collective
have endured for almost two years.
I acknowledge
the grace with which I, myself,
move my way through—
  grateful to be in a place
where hope often runs free,
the comfort of Love is present,
  tender Light softens, still.

Sarah Carlson
February 5, 2022

Anew

Anew

 I watch my sweet grandson
look here, there, everywhere
as he discovers his way
in this wonderful world.
My mind drifts back to our children
doing the same,
to times with my father
finding stories in the clouds,
to that special night by the river
as two geese provided
a divine moment that has
fortified me for almost 20 years.
I think of all the messages
from the natural world
that confirm or accentuate my healing,
 make their way through
my mind and heart to these poems
I share with courage, hope, and love.
Though I know there is more
to mend, learn, write, share,
I offer some straightforward advice.
Please remember to pause, look, ponder—
in the midst of the storm,
during times of transition,
 in the mundane moments
along the way.
Up, down, in, out.
Scan the horizon,
notice minutiae,
twist the lens
when the time is right.
None of us are strangers to heartache,
which is all the more reason
to let beauty
such as a fleeting sunset sky
bolster one’s being
 anew.

Sarah Carlson
January 28, 2022

Step Into the Storm

Step Into the Storm

 

Sometimes, not always,
there is reason
to step into a storm.
Only you will know when, if,
the time is right.
There’s a sense of carefully
turning to
instead of away,
which can allow for
liberation of static tension
that may have been bound up
for a very long time.
It becomes dynamic,
with releases that are
both breath taking
and breath giving.
Sometimes in the midst
of a storm
one may feel lonely,
unsure,
even disoriented.
Take refuge if necessary.
Or pause,
remember,
notice,
allow.
Be still and
feel the sacred flow
of breath, health,
connection,
love.
Even prickly pine needles
may have downy blankets
before the winds of change stir.
Beauty and comfort only seen
by finding the courage
to step into the storm.

Sarah Carlson
January 18, 2022

A Sense of Place Within

 A Sense of Place Within

I sit alone on a hilltop,
gaze over the valley
we called home
together.
As a new year approaches
I feel a gentle longing
that has somehow become
a welcome friend.
This, the twentieth time
the calendar changes
without your hand on my shoulder,
your kiss on my cheek.
I close my eyes,
feel the winter sun warm my face,
hear the whisper of the wind
and distant bells of a team of horses
as they work the land nearby.
I smile inwardly
with recent memories of
watching our sweet grandson
as he finds awe and joy
in just about everything.
My mind drifts back to raising
our children together,
seeing the very same in them.
I open my eyes,
notice the softness of the sky
above Mt. Blue.
I’m so grateful for
the time we had here together,
and that I know now
to wrap myself
in the downy comfort
of Love interwoven
as I cultivate
a thriving
 sense of place
within.

Sarah Carlson
December 31, 2021

The Calm Comfort of Love

 

The Calm Comfort of Love

I can still see it –
the blueness of your eyes
filled with love as they
reflected me
back to me.
I can still feel it
as I did the same for you.
An interconnection
that was so deep and genuine
even during hard times,
maybe especially so.
It’s what I miss the most
when we would have teamed up,
been there for each other,
found our way through.
When I really slow down,
drop into
 that serene place within,
I am able
to experience the warmth of it
expand to places
I can’t even identify,
have no real need to.
It contains an eclectic mix
of truth and mystery.
Little by little I have
come to understand that
the comfort of your love
has been
and will be
there forever.
Like the goodness of me,
it is in and around and through –
earthly and celestial
with a divinity
that is safe and right to enfold.
May I,
may each and every one of us,
discern the calm comfort of Love.

Sarah Carlson
December 9, 2021

In and Around and Above

 In and Around and Above

Oh, my goodness.
The goodness that is mine,
that is me.
How much you have endured.
How gently relentless
you have been in
looking,
            listening,
                  learning
from all
 you have explored.
As the sorrows you collected,
 thought were yours to carry,
release and flow away
your own sorrows
are asking to be heard.
It’s okay.
You have the time
and the space
and the ability.
There’s no reason
to feel guilty
                    or selfish
                or wrong.
Remember to let yourself
be led by the light,
the love,
that is in
 and around
and above.
It’s safe to
all the way feel
your very own
pain, grief
 joy, truth.
Oh my goodness,
it’s time.

Sarah Carlson
November 24, 2021

Led by Light

 Led by Light

Some storms
can be seen approaching
as winds whirl,
 darkenings roil.
Some contain
concussive blows
that strike without warning.
Others loom in the distance,
slide in slowly
as intricate energies uncoil.
Sometimes, though,
one can gaze to the horizon,
observe the potential,
feel the energy
without care
 as to whether 
thunder rumbles,
winds freshen,
rains fall.
Translucent, divergent tempests
coexist with a sparkling sense of being.
An opportunity to remember
and honor
the resilience and fortitude
with which stormy times
have been met,
how cleansing
wind and rain can be,
how the warming sun,
glowing moon,
twinkling stars
are actually always there.
A chance
 to more deeply fathom
 that we are
surrounded by,
connected to,
 led by Light.
A looking back
in the interest of
moving forward
into the peace
of an unlimited now.

Sarah Carlson
November 24, 2021

Because I Am In It

 Because I Am In It

As I re-read my poems
I waver between thinking
I keep saying the same thing
to actual awe in how
keenly I articulate
the meanderings of healing.
As I see those words,
I know the latter to be true.
I have chosen to keep writing
through a global pandemic that, for me,
includes a wide range of life experiences
from the death of a mother,
 to retirement from a beloved profession
to the birth of my first grandchild.
Through it all
my home has become a sanctuary,
though I think it may be time to move.
I was curious about those two thoughts
coming together in my mind.
As I returned from a walk just yesterday
I thought, “I love this space…ohhhhh…
I love this space
 because I am in it.”
Like a late season rose,
I open to the changes within
and all around.
I’m not sure what is next,
but this meander has led me
right back
 to me.
A pure, unfurled,
wonder-filled me,
aglow with appreciation
of my very own self.

Sarah Carlson
November 10, 2021

Collected Sorrow

 Collected Sorrow

Though I know I have felt hopeful
and grateful and joyful
all along my way,
I now understand
collected sorrow
has long been
 a stealthy burden
and much of it
simply is not mine.
Some of it saturated deeply,
some beaded and pooled,
some already dripped away.
I think it will take a bit more time
to allow myself to let go
the responsibility,
to not feel as though
I’m falling short if
I choose to fully attend
to my authentic emotions,
whatever they may be.
What is truly imperative
is the recognition
that I’ve consistently acted
from a place of caring deeply,
 being a helper,
wanting to create ease
for the ones I love.
This, however,
does not mean I must
absorb or carry
the despair of others,
causing unease
within me.
In truth, there is
nothing selfish
or nefarious
to that.

Sarah Carlson
October 28, 2021

Of Sunshine and Raindrops

 Of Sunshine and Raindrops

Things seem so clear at times.
At others they
are vague and murky.
I’m much more at ease
in me,
while at the same time
I’m uncertain as to
where I belong.
So I breathe and settle,
accept and allow,
stretch and widen.
And, sometimes I’m treated
to magical moments
such as a rainbow extending
from rocky cliffs to vibrant trees.
One that is so low to the ground
you can see through the layers
and it makes your breath catch
in that really good way.
And I realize
this vivid beacon
 could only happen
with an ideal mix
of sunshine and raindrops.
I’m so very grateful
that I was in the right place
at the right time
so I could soak it in
with a quiet grin,
let the accompanying sensations
saturate and soothe
in whatever ways
they will.

Sarah Carlson
October 22, 2021

Wide-eyed Wonder

 

Wide-eyed Wonder

Having circled back
many times,
she finds her way
 to vivid truth
and velvety comfort.
Circumstances that  
entrenched
faulty, twisted learnings
happened to her,
not because of her.
Of that she is now sure.
Layers adjust
and reintegrate,
 fears that were bestowed
evaporate.
She gazes aloft
with wide-eyed wonder,
glows with the grace of discovery,
fosters her sanctuary within.
She expands to the downy yonder,
 feels reverential,
 less troubled,
curious to experience
what else this
wonderment
might reveal.

Sarah Carlson
October 15, 2021

Baptism by Nature

 Baptism by Nature
 

She walks alone through
autumn woods.
Water music accompanies
her quiet strides
along a stony brook.
A leaf catches her eye
and she stops, looks,
listens, ponders, feels.
She breathes,
dropping in ever deeper,
expanding outward
more and more and more.
Her chest and shoulders,
which still so often ache,
settle
and she feels aglow
with an energy
that is genuine and pure.
A soft mist moistens her face
as she descends the trail.
Innate strength,
beauty, nurture, love
flow steadily within
as she once again
allows herself
to be enfolded by
 natural surrounds.
Alone, yet not,
brightening faith in
the divinity of it all
saturates, invigorates,
cradles her softly
anew.

Sarah Carlson
October 14, 2021

Divinely They Dance

Harvest Moon rising on Lower Shin Pond, Maine

 

I share this poem with gratitude to my grandson who has so much to teach.

Divinely They Dance

I rock you in my arms
as you rest quietly.
I feel the depth of your love,
freedom of your trust,
rhythm of your being.
My thoughts drift back
to the day we shared.
How you opened your arms,
beamed your smile,
from the moment of your waking.
How you picked up a twig,
a leaf, a blade of grass,
a piece of bark
and held each to the sky
in wonderment.
How your body adjusted
to the coolness of the lake
and you splashed and giggled
at the sights, sounds, sensations.
How you explored the cabin,
every cranny and nook,
finding your balance
as your side-steps
become walking,
 whole body smile
your consistent companion.
You don’t have words yet,
but there is no need.
Your delight emanates,
like the light of the full moon
that rises in a darkened sky
as we cuddle.
Baby love,
so pure and true.
Maternal love,
that way, too.
Like shimmering moonbeams,
divinely they dance.

Sarah Carlson
September 24, 2021

Thank You, Blue Heron

 

What sweet relief to 'listen' to this being:

Thank You, Blue Heron

I’ve seen you so many times
this summer.
Skimming the surface
of a glassy lake
that held my body afloat,
soaring above me
with your amazing wings
spread wide,
strolling in the shallows
along a beach where I sat
chatting with a friend.
Unafraid,
 you walked slowly
but with quiet purpose.
Wings at rest,
head held high,
strength and sureness
emanating from your body.
I have learned that you represent
self reflection,
diving into one’s feelings
to discover the authenticity
of spiritual essence,
surfacing with a more balanced
sense of being.
I know this involves
dropping in again and again.
And that I surely have done.
Though the depths can be murky,
 they do have much to teach.
But, in those grassy shallows
I think you were reminding me
of the importance of
enabling emergence,
feeling fullness within,
trusting connection
to that which holds
 and surrounds us
each and every day.
Thank you, Heron.
I appreciate the nudge.

Sarah Carlson
September 16, 2021

This Bold Love

 This piece started emerging a week or so ago. But, I've had a hard time allowing it all the way out. Today, however, it seems to have found its way. I can't really tell if it will help others, but it is surely helping me as I wrestle with previously mentioned waves of sorrow.

This Bold Love

 Reflected brilliance,
there for taking in,
letting out.
Bold and beautiful,
real and right,
this gleaming is
full and free
even if obscured
by storms,
fair weather clouds,
or a lack of noticing.
Like the pull of the moon,
the energy of maternal love
is there
    always.
    Look,
                listen,
                       feel,
            believe.
Know that when you speak
of pain or sorrow
or healing or joy
you will not, can not
 be rejected or negated.
Just as the sky caresses you,
waters support you,
wind breathes you,
the restorative power
of this bold love
runs true
around and through you.
You have long known
how to extend it to others.
It’s time now to allow it
all the way in
with ease.

Sarah Carlson
September 2-10, 2021

 

Reveal

 Reveal

They come close,
but don’t quite overpower me,
these waves of sorrow.
They move this way and that,
make me feel heavy,
queasy, off balance.
My body aches,
mind wonders,
 spirit wavers a bit.
Then I remember that
unease, insight, and freedom
often travel together.
I remind myself that the pain and angst
that are present right now
do not mean failure.
I turn to my strength
and the buoyancy of Health.
I observe the intricate aspects
of what is,
what was,
 more closely
 and notice the interplay
of dark and light,
the fluidity of transformation,
the transitory nature of it all.
I raise my eyes to the horizon,
notice the solidity of distant hills,
a hint of blue behind flowing clouds.
My body relaxes in moments of relief
as facets of healing once again reveal
 the power of unconditional Love
experienced unconditionally.
Right now I do hurt deeply.
There’s no use in denying it.
But I can see that in time
this, too,
will mend.

Sarah Carlson
September 6, 2021

Crisis

 

This photo was taken at the Borestone Mountain Audubon Sanctuary where I spent a day recently at the invitation of someone who works there. I had a wonderful time paddling, hiking, swimming, and learning the amazing history of this beautiful place. 

I chose this picture to partner with this poem because I felt so strong, supported, appreciated, and free that day. It reminds me of so many aspects of that which is good in this life, and in me, as I find my way through this challenging time.

Crisis - n. critical point, turning point,
crossroads, watershed, moment of truth

I woke up this morning
with this word in my mind.
I believe I’ve reached
one in my healing.
I remember this happening
many years ago as I dealt with
issues connected to a toxic building.
I made it through that
and this time I know I have
 an ever more solid
foundation of health on board.
But, right now I think it important
to admit that sometimes I’m scared
and feel alone.
When that happens
it can be hard to imagine
how I can go on.
Yet, I know I will.
Partnered with wave after wave
 of sadness
are currents of hope,
though harder to access right now.
Perhaps this is happening because I have time.
Retirement and this ongoing pandemic
have surely provided that.
I re-read my own poetry
and know it to be true.
I believe in all that has come from
exploring my depths.
So, I thought I’d write this one,
share these pivotal moments of truth
as I navigate this watershed,
fears and tears flowing free.
This is hard.
But, my vessel is still secure
and I trust that love will lead the way
through this murky disquiet
to calmer waters ahead.

Sarah Carlson
September 3, 2021