Leave the dirt on....
Messy, scrambled words
Striving for control
How I am perceived
How I am received
Oh! You want me to show you
my skinned knee,
my bruised heart,
my bad dream?
My words, without my edits,
will show you the twisted, rambling trail
I have taken to get here.
Are you sure you can keep up?
By Nancy A. Musgrove
I am grateful for Nancy’s permission
to share her poem from the writing
circle here. I continue to meet
amazing women across different time
zones. Writing together provides a
mirror for us to process life in a
safe place where we have all agreed
to listen with compassion.
Interested in joining a writing circle?
Email met at email@example.com
I am one citizen of the United States of America, just one.
One person who believes that each of us matters.
One who has learned so much this year about what I have taken for granted. I thought a peaceful transition of power in our country was guaranteed. I guess it shows I wasn’t paying close enough attention. I guess I didn’t realize how much I wasn’t listening.
Thank you for holding peace for all of us while I was unaware.
Thank you for the respect you gave the next to come.
Thank you for choosing to honor our country with your letters.
I regret that I didn’t notice or understand how much there was to appreciate about you in the past. I also believe it is never too late to be grateful for someone else’s life and seek to understand what a difference it made for others.
My bare feet travel riverside down the dust talcum path. They feel the way forward while softly grounded in the fine dirt. As the bank of trees lean to shade, the river glides past, over and around rocks. Here it seems effortless for lives of birds, fish and plants to thrive together. None needing to shame or blame. Is it just my interpretation or have the living of the river ecosystem always known that there is enough for all, that everyone’s time will someday pass, that we will someday be nourishment for the next in line and there is peace in the acceptance of being a part of the changing cycle? There seems to be balance here. The kind of balance I am always seeking. As I hike up the pants, I have yet to grow into, I wonder if humans really are the more evolved species. It seems that I have so much to learn from the Osprey’s willingness to try again and the way rivers shift course without blaming the logs that have fallen to block their route. As I pack up my tent site I am already planning my return.