Nurturing a Color

In fading light,

glowing colors blend

and it is impossible to tell

where one begins. So it is

with you and I. When did I begin on my own?

So many years you nurtured and cooked, rocked,

encouraged, and cared for me while fighting for yourself.

As we unblended and became our separate colors, lessons were learned.

What was said and what was left empty in the room for me to choose.

The boundary of where you stood, lines I sometimes crossed.

In the mirror of the years I am in awe of your effort.

You gave, at minimum, years of listening

with your whole face turned toward mine.

Intent on taking each word in

not letting a single one

escape your ear.

Mother’s Day 2016 – Dedicated to my mother and her commitment to keeping her colors vibrant while letting me find my own. 

© Ali Grimshaw 2016

 

 

 

 

Persistence

The strength you possess

growing just where you landed

nourished by sparse light

no gardener to tend you

pushing through the cracks

away from your roots

toward warmth of another

to be seen.

© Ali Grimshaw

 

 

 

 

Hope

I see hope in your eyes.

A flash of light that has been absent.

Just a sliver of believing,

you never thought you could hold.

A small beacon inside,

beginning to send out its light

after a long darkness.

© Ali Grimshaw

 

Free Yourself

Cut yourself free

from the weight of all not forgiven

a constricting of vitality, past failures squeeze

the tangle of rope, disallows a full breath.

Each memory binds, an internal tightening

of a time you did not stop it,

didn’t stand up tall for yourself.

Patterns of knots encircle your being.

Twisted, wound round, strangled voice.

If you would have been smarter, stronger, better …

If only you had been more.

© Ali Grimshaw Revised 2018

 

 

Message In The Clouds

Let me send my love to you

lightly floating on the wind.

A force that sails ships across the ocean.

Let my kisses evaporate into the clouds.

When they reach your shore,

love will rain down upon you.

© Ali Grimshaw

 

 

Falling

The falling rain washing clean the road,

pooling for the birds,

freeing the leaves.

These many drops,

falling like the sky wants to share,

a blessing for so many.

Looking at my upturned face,

you wonder why I yearn for dark clouds to let loose.

Pouring forth all they have been holding.

The sky’s release streams down my head, my cheeks.

A trickle drips from my nose tip.

The storm and I let this wind blow through.

The raindrops hiding,

what you will never know,

are tears on my face.

 

© Ali Grimshaw

 

 

The Answer

Now is not the time for tomorrow’s thinking.

Living for when I get there and happiness lands.

Someday solutions for formulaic bliss.

A machine of future making.

Now, is life.

Remove the heavy hat of suffering.

Hang up the wool coat that has been passed down to you.

Slip off the leaden shoes denying your right to skip.

Let your toes feel the mud between them.

Hear the sounds in this space.

Just be,

be your own answer.

© Ali Grimshaw

Looking Ahead

By knowing you,

I find myself.

Now and 90 years wrinkled.

My doubts don’t exist in your eyes.

You see the chipped edges and

places worn raw from not retreating.

The rough, abeyant curves of my puzzle.

You see my essence of spirit.

gently holding it all up,

like a mirror before me,

so that I can see,

for myself,

who I am becoming.

© Ali Grimshaw 2016