Somedays we may need to return to the nest lined with words of hope, blanketed by belief in our ability to fly again. Somedays we may need to hold ourselves leaning into curved sides of this small structure built by someone who loved us. © Ali Grimshaw 2020 dVerse Poet's Pub - Quadrille #113: Blanket Us
Which way out? Down is upside down up is not what it used to be Which way to the familiar where the predictable seemed to be real? Which way to rise above the untaught history which left us blind? Which way forward to undo, redo, or never do again what once we did? What we weren't ready for or maybe never are, let's help each other rise let us begin again. © Ali Grimshaw 2020
Writing together provides a mirror for us to process life in a safe place where we have all agreed to listen with compassion. Thank you to all of you who have written with me in the last few months. I am so very grateful to share this journey with you. I have added this new date and time to open up the invitation to others in different time zones. Let’s connect across the boarders. Stay safe my friends.
We are balancing between the blocks of our days large and small. Squares filled with the demands of our days and squares now left open. Boxes where plans once sat in happy company with future anticipation. Now canceled without pattern. Just scattered openings in the grid. Emptiness at first look, then disbelief. As we walk farther down the street, grief standing next to disappointment. Finally we turn the corner and see a tiny new patio garden. Someone is intent on growing beauty from strong willed, concrete pots. The first sprouts are just reaching free.
Determined seeds rise
there is always a crack, wide
enough for thriving
This Haibun Monday over at dVerse Poets Pub we have a visual prompt. It was an new adventure for me. Click here to join the challenge.
As the virus careens, spinning down our long road. The dust has yet to settle from the wheels Slow motion, particles falling, We sift sillily through, glittered remembering. Was that last week? As I am here, reaching you are there, still only through airwaves. © Alicia Grimshaw 2020
A beautiful poem of hope from MISTYROADS
And so we grow,
In winds bent back
Against the storms
And lightning strikes.
And well-lit grace
Of Swift footsteps
That forever change
In those brief sorrows
Of untrained reach
And growth in silent tears;
That dry in hope
And sunlight given.
Copyright ©RMC May 2020
Click here for more from MistyRoads Blog
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.
© Ali Grimshaw 2020
Inspired by William Stafford’s poem “The Way It Is”
Photo taken in on my last trip, Château de Suscinio in France.
on the beach I begin
because now I am ready
and so are you
to turn our fear into fuel
build a bonfire to bring warmth
for all now sitting in cold darkness
I start with kindling of prejudice
add sticks of anger
a log of fear
a heavy round of anxiety
watch the flames ignite to hot glow
come close and sit with me now
add your logs to this burning pyre
hate and terror blaze brightly with heat
finally an efficient use for their energy
as flames of love
devour all that we
believe we cannot face
to singe away, char and reform
all that has been holding us back
love knows how to transform
create a burning
to warm us all through
this dark night.
come to the beach
now we are ready
© Ali Grimshaw 2020
What do you hold onto
when the bottom drops out
leaving you foundationless?
Your roof carried away by a tornado.
Left only with blankness and a pen
you forgot was in your hand.
I draw myself a new house
openness of windows, tin roof to hear rain
a welcome door without requirements
with the hope that you feel safe enough to visit
uncensored, just as you are not
when you leave the premises
© Ali Grimshaw 2019
“Active Hope is a practice.
Since Active Hope doesn’t require our optimism, we can apply it even in areas where we feel hopeless. The guiding impetus is intention; we choose what we aim to bring about, act for, or express. Rather than weighing our chances and proceeding only when we feel hopeful, we focus on our intention and let it be our guide.”
We can not walk
without placing our
feet upon a past life.
Leaves layered, give
way to decay
to nourish the next.
What ground can I
cultivate with shelter
for those neglected seeds
that are tomorrow’s hope?
© Alicia Grimshaw 2019
One step to the right
not a stretch, just a nudge
shift of weight to the side.
One step away, between
worry and what if?
Landscape of exhaustion
or a horizon of possibility.
Not a marathon, nothing to train for,
Get your shoes on.
wonder is waiting.
© Ali Grimshaw 2018
Resharing one the most liked posts from this year.
Sending the light of hope your way.