What would it take for you to be a yes? Not a maybe or a probably, but a full-on screaming YES!
When was the last time you shouted out a YES with the excitement of an eight-year-old? You know the one, where the kid gets a new bike or puppy and goes out of control with joyousness.
Can you remember?
What is with this hesitation to vocalize the affirmation? Is it not proper, adult-like? Has it been trimmed off like the crusts of bread because that is the way your mother did it?
Where did your loud YES go?
I suspect your YES is just hibernating, curled up in safe slumber. It's not too late, reach for that voice inside and wake it up.
It is ok to start small, soft. You can increase the volume over time.
I run from myself catch a corner of feeling accept this moment of liberation
as skin of bruised clouds darkens a prickling tingle goosebumps my arms airwaves gather energy sparks
our tilted world revolves a turning we have never been able to feel yet know as truth
a shift occurring between/from who are the others who are the us
we ride around the sun evolving regardless of our position or noticing
recycled drops of rain
This poem was first published in MasticadoresUSA 2022.
May poems continue to help us understand the many experiences of human beings. May poems continue to help us learn to pause and listen. May poems help us celebrate the gift of being alive.
This photo was not generated by AI. It hasn't been altered. Last summer my husband, some friends, and I hiked to this lovely blue pool in Oregon. Those are my purple shoes. Seeing this felt like the miracle, like a new idea feels when it comes from the heart. Keep seeking, my friends.
This poem was inspired by De Jackson's prompt for dVerse Quadrille. You can read others' poems by following the link, HERE.
Join dVerse Poet’s Pub for Open Link Night. HERE You can link up one poem of your choice.
This is a live edition, with an opportunity to join on Saturday at 10 AM New York Time. The session will run on Google Meet. Please click on the link below to join us on Saturday: https://meet.google.com/vbr-xvjw-eay
Photo taken at the Desert Botanical Garden, Arizona, 2025. My husband and I spent three hours here, delighting in the plants. I adore reflections and therefore have photographed many.
“But it is not enough to weep for our lost landscapes; we have to put our hands in the earth to make ourselves whole again. Even a wounded world is feeding us. Even a wounded world holds us, giving us moments of wonder and joy. I choose joy over despair. Not because I have my head in the sand, but because joy is what the earth gives me daily and I must return the gift.” ― Robin Wall Kimmerer, Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge, and the Teachings of Plants
In the wind a yearning hunger
exhales united in pain gather into traveling rain.
Storm clouds of resistance blanketing the vulnerable.
This photo was taken in Croatia. When the world’s hate feels like too much, I can always trust in nature for moments of respite. Find a flower and follow its lead.
Join a friendly community of poets at dVerse Poetry Pub. Write a quadrille (44-word poem) to share with the group HERE.
flashlight batteries - Ali Grimshaw 