Painted leaves sing in unison
Unlike music, their song
is soundless harmony.
This orchestra of color
soothes the tempo
an internal pounding
from a day of instruments
that refused to play
the same song.
Fall catches me
with muted volume
a serenade of equilibrium.
© Alicia Grimshaw 2018
At the seasonal station
the train of life only pauses
departure depends on your duration
illusion of control blankets nature’s causes.
Days to nights shift and the engineer steers
hibernating bunks of linked sleepers softly
breathe away their past selves
rhythm of the planet moves through the years.
Travelers lulled to comforted right
cycle of no endings, wheels freely spin
balance tipped toward the night
untouchable by human error, solstice arrives again.
© Ali Grimshaw 2019
Where do you go after
you’ve swept up a dusty decade?
Voices of memories, dialogues of decisions
glinting pieces of effort,
shambled shards of mixed failures and gritty grains
of overcoming the odds. The minutes after
the disposal of what was,
a pause before, you’ve put away the broom.
Clean floor, the past no longer felt
between your toes.
Shadowed understory no longer needed
sprout through old layers of indecision
boldly bolt toward sunlight to come.
Regardless of broken branches,
depleted soil from years
of growing the same crops.
Angle for full height, extension
of reach, beyond what is
expected of your species.
Grow yourself beyond
the gardens of your past
self.
© Ali Grimshaw 2019
Open Link Night – d’Verse Poets Pub
An inner dissection
sections of her heart
thinly unlayered, to find
the magnificence of awe
that used to be part of her.
Faded peak moments mapped
on her skin. Elevations reached
and fallen from while yearning
changed her topography.
Thoughts of who
she could become, still
a proposed expedition.
© Alicia Grimshaw 2019
Behind, underneath yet also intertwined
with softly sounded movement of bees
yet not quite a song, of all that generates
thrives for growth beyond survival music.
These background singers of inspired hum
as I branch out toward new sky, consider
a transplant beyond my container
soil in colors my roots have never reached.
© Ali Grimshaw 2019
Photo taken Kauai, Hawaii 2018
With the brokenness
there is a choice
to hear the mirror
or bury that which you won’t face.
Without any proof
I know you can do the hard things.
It is courage coupled with action
that matters after we fall.
Brave has always
lived inside of you,
printed in bold letters.
Step forward
cloaked in courage to
pick up only the pieces that
are worth keeping.
© Ali Grimshaw 2019
Beside me, your mummers begin
repetition of words to form
a solid, something to hold on to.
As you hammer a picture in sound,
letters arrange in audible order
to hear who you are.
To speak building blocks, stack phrases
scaffold words of steel
structures to withstand tomorrow.
I am silent witness
to the rebuilding of yourself.
© Alicia Grimshaw 2019
“The most visible creators are those artists whose medium is life itself. The ones who express the inexpressible ~ without brush, hammer, clay, or guitar. They neither paint nor sculpt. Their medium is simply being. Whatever their presence touches has increased life. They see, but don’t have to draw… Because they are the artists of being alive… – Donna J. Stone
One day I finally knew that I could swim
in the blue of the sky.
That I was as strong as my declaration.
My fears, teachers made just for me.
That there would always be cracks to slip through
times of trembling, shaken awake to fall again.
Then I stood next to the lake,
a mirror of blue sky wholeness,
arms wide with acceptance
I, the problem and solution
dove into
reflection of release.
© Alicia Grimshaw 2019 (rewrite of 2017 poem)
Photo taken on a family trip to Varenna, Italy 2016
Life emerged from one egg
unexpected, now expecting
broken hearted or leap into life shared
anything in exchange for relief
from this current mind cloud
and a diagram to life’s answers.
Hold my hand and then
we will both know
a chance together forward.
© Ali Grimshaw 2019
flashlight batteries - Ali Grimshaw 