If we reject who we are bent feathers flawed and perfect as a sparrow we will lose the chance to know what it means to fly with love to know its power of lift to feel it under our wings to rest on its currents letting us soar without effort until we are restored ready for the next journey skyward when we have lost our belief in flight we don't need to learn how to fly just remember we were born knowing how ©Ali Grimshaw 2021 I was inspired to write this morning after listening to Mary Oliver read her poem. Click on this link to listen to her. - Mary Oliver: I Happened to be Standing Join my newsletter for upcoming writing circles. HERE Photo of the Columbia River Gorge, Oregon 2021.
Life’s roar a whisper Country road curves with no plan Afternoon of you. ©Ali Grimshaw 2021
This tastes like the memory of that simmering summer day. I held a buttercup flower under your chin, declaring with the yellow glow of your skin, "You like butter." When you said, "Let me try," I knew we would be friends. You were another who wanted to see the colors for herself. ©Ali Grimshaw 2021 For Eugenia's prompt - Happiness Give yourself space to let go Give yourself time to listen inward Give yourself freedom to be Join me for my next writing circle. Self-Compassion Through Poetry: Writing Circle
Friday, July 9, 9:30 – 11:00 am PDT. Register here
"All you have to do is write one true sentence. Write the truest sentence that you know." ― Ernest Hemingway round and wound snugly tight we wrapped you with pockets of air to let the cold hurt breathe before exhaling it with the laughter each small stitch a holding of our unraveled hearts circled colors hitched secure with homemade memory patterns our shared stories under stars love appliqued for the winter months loops small and strong to hold your weight in the wind to keep your dreams collectively connected securely anointed with our goodbye tears tucked in tight for all nights you will never be left outside this handwoven circle of arms in each departing hand a yarn of length kept warm to remember you in tomorrow's pocket ©Ali Grimshaw 2021 Dedicated to Shelby Case, reporter, writer and friend. dVerse Poetics - Come join the fun HERE Photo take in Bellingham, WA. Join me for a writing circle Let me hold space for your voice to appear on the page. Self-Compassion Through Poetry: Writing Circle, Friday, June 25, 10:00 – 11:30 am PDT Register here
“Beautiful things don’t ask for attention.” – The Secret Life of Walter Mitty, 2013 –
your arms around me encircled together heart to heart someday I will touch a photo this moment's embrace replaying this day until then I am noticing the feeling while I still have you near I am memorizing the shape of holding you holding me ©Ali Grimshaw 2021 Photo of my son and I on my birthday 2020. Poetics on dVerse Poets Pub - Come join the fun HERE.
a gathering of cells multiplying magnificent a seed inside breathing being and no one even knew that you had begun arriving, small magic happening inside the womb she went about her day hanging laundry in her quiet way while the message of you grew © Ali Grimshaw 2021 An early Mother's Day poem. Quadrille Monday on dVerse
you believe that saying the right thing will dissolve the pain, that you should know how to ascend the sunken afloat in powerlessness without the words to reach the aggrieved restore their hearts to harmony don’t be swallowed by your lacking the right words never have been what the grieving seek sufficient is whole face listening eyes intent to bridge being ears strong enough to hear without changing the subject and you can do that anyone can make that choice First published on VITA BREVIS PRESS 2018 For those are are grieving today. I send this to you with love.
"Without poetry, we lose our way." - Joy Harjo the future of my day is coming from where yours has already taken a seat while I wake, you are closing the book to rest your head in a country covered by stars Here on this pondering path of forest synchronized with the slow passing of light this fern comnunity reaches toward many more than any one person can see and one of them is me a gathering of condolences for this time of separation, green fronds reach to surround me in a forest embrace our fiddlehead hearts, together while apart your voice sits with me, uncurling I am moss damp with missing you © Ali Grimshaw 2021 Join a welcome community of poets at dVerse for Open Link Night - HERE 30 Ways to Celebrate the 25th Annual National Poetry Month Day 3 of National Poetry & Global Poetry Writing Month
Your separation started with a small knot, then the winding began. Strings of storybooks, twined through nights and days of countless fresh starts, repeating circles. The looping of stories wound through our shared days. Up and down on the life school rollercoaster, back when I used to hold your hand. Our faces in the wind a side by side scream of surprise moments you reached out, adding to yourself adding another layer of becoming. While some saw mangled routes and loose ends I envied your brave expanding, overlapping leaps of curiosity to solidify your center. Now you roll down new streets with layers of perseverance over boyish charm a masterpiece touching lives I will never meet. I hope you never stop winding over that small knot, tied while I watched. © Ali Grimshaw 2021 This poem is dedicated to my two amazing sons. I am grateful to be your mother. dVerse Open Link Night - Join a welcoming community of poets HERE.