“The storm’s ravages had not only opened her eyes, but her heart and mind as well. What mattered was the present moment. The people she was with. She may never be fully free of the past, and the future might bring more struggle. But the here and now wasn’t a place to hide. It was hers to live.”
– from The Medicine Woman of Galveston by Amanda Skenandore
Distant views calmed her mind these cliffs, twisted roads, rugged mountains were relatable.
A smooth life could not create this kind of beauty
and once again nature was teaching her how to navigate sorrows.
What remains an obstacle may depend on the point from which she observed the landscape.
Photo taken at Colorado National Monument 2024.
Today in the U.S. we honor Martin Luther King, Jr., and in his honor, I am reflecting on perseverance.
“Poetry offers the world something that’s small enough to carry close to your heart, and big enough to carry all of the ordinary things that can be encompassed in any one day.” — Pádraig Ó Tuama
The rope winds gently around my waist,
twisted, smoothly strong by years of mistakes,
trying again, doubt and wondering how.
Thick with memories of others who
believed with the strength of solid ground.
Believed that all earthquakes eventually stop shaking.
Believed in soil’s ability to grow what we need next.
The end of this rope was handed to me long ago.
A generous lifeline offered for free
to keep me on the planet.
Now I look down at the rope in my calloused hands,
threads of the millions, an explosion of frayed ends,
their forgivings, endurance,
the woven learnings of my ancestors.
The rope loops back and around me,
over and over,
then off into the distance.
I don’t need to see the end now
to trust it is anchored deeply somehow.