Singing through the cracks

March 6, 2020March 12, 2020 ~ Ali Grimshaw ~ 24 Comments

Image may contain: outdoor, possible text that says 'Ring the bells that still can ring Forget your perfect offering There is a crack in everything That's how the light gets in. Leonard Cohen LIFE' A DANCETM'

And they sang
through the cracks of pain
through the wandering worries
through the regrets, determined desires
to be true to their calling hearts.

And they sang
because song was needed
because together their voices lifted
because all else didn’t make sense
because they could.

And others joined the circle

and they sang.

© Alicia Grimshaw 2020

Join me at the next song circle. Simply Singing Song Circle in Portland, Oregon with Carole Marie Downing

“Nothing accesses the inner world of feelings, sensations, memories, and associations as directly as music does,” says Diane Austin, adjunct associate professor of music therapy at New York University and executive director of the Music Psychotherapy Center in New York. “The voice is like a bridge from your heart to your head. Singing freely releases what’s locked up in your body.” A pilot study published in the British Journal of Nursing found that singing therapy could greatly reduce the anxiety and depression patients can experience following a major surgery. – Sing Two Songs and Call Me in the Morning by Sari Harrar

Temporary – Poem by Ali Grimshaw

February 27, 2020March 5, 2020 ~ Ali Grimshaw ~ 57 Comments

Your phrases landed
on the floor between us.
I didn’t know how to catch them.

Your breathless words carried
a story of near miss.
One collection of minutes
that almost
restructured my life.

Like flower petals
blown away by the wind
altering forever

their attachment
to the stem.

Never again to unite in bloom’s beauty.

A reminder of
the impermanence of us.

© Alicia Grimshaw 2020 (Rewrite of a poem shared in 2017)

dVerse prompt – Poetics: Impermanence

May you notice – poem by Ali Grimshaw

February 14, 2020February 14, 2020 ~ Ali Grimshaw ~ 29 Comments

enlight1

It doesn’t need

to be earned

fought for, proven.

It cannot be purchased

or owed.

True love is given

just because.

I hope that you notice

that love has landed on you today.

I hope you let yourself feel it.

© Ali Grimshaw 2020

Thank you to all my readers for the love you share in the world. I see your hearts strong.

Traveler

January 28, 2020 ~ Ali Grimshaw ~ 31 Comments

Your silhouetted resilience

of an almost ageless traveler

with kid’s eyes of curious.

Ready for all that is,

wildly wondrous.

Unwilling to miss a viewpoint

be it window wide

or mountaintop.

Fractured city lights illuminate

all the bold and beloved

I see in you.

© Ali Grimshaw 2020

dVerse Quadrille #96 Wild

Dedicated to my adventurous life partner, Adam.

One bowl – poem by Ali Grimshaw

January 26, 2020January 28, 2020 ~ Ali Grimshaw ~ 29 Comments

And the words were ladled out
to fill her, like warm soup
for a bleak benumbed soul in need

she had forgotten to feed her
spirit, an inner child who waited
patient for her spoonful

another day here was possible

© Ali Grimshaw 2020

“Begin doing what you want to do now. We are not living in eternity. We have only this moment, sparkling like a star in our hand – and melting like a snowflake.” – Francis Bacon

Yours in mine – Poem by Ali Grimshaw

December 22, 2019December 27, 2019 ~ Ali Grimshaw ~ 33 Comments

Can we just hold hands,
stop the world
and just hold hands?
Yours in mine.
Hers in hers.
His in theirs.
Fingers intwined
bridge across
to touch.

One Word Sunday – Hands

Solstice Lanterns

December 20, 2019 ~ Ali Grimshaw ~ 15 Comments

When the crack widens to an unknown view
fear can squeeze in between rough edges of darkness

quickly slide in, expanding like a balloon
barricade of shadow to seal the entrance.

Yet seekers of light will never be dismayed by tricks of perspective
their wisdom of the season’s shifting songs sing them forward.

When eyes look with love, illumination is present for all
allowing forgiveness to set another place at the table

where lanterns burn long into the night.

Dedicated to all of those who make the world a better place by generously giving their light.

If you happen to be in Vancouver BC, Canada on Saturday December 21, check out their 26th Annual Winter Solstice Lantern Festival put on by the Secret Lantern Society. Even if you can’t go, you will find their website inspiring with free community events including a labyrinth of light and workshops to make lanterns. What beauty communities can create when they come together.

Look again

December 18, 2019 ~ Ali Grimshaw ~ 14 Comments

Love is there, open

for you, arms outstretched to

embrace, let it be.

32 Degrees – Poem by Ali Grimshaw

December 7, 2019 ~ Ali Grimshaw ~ 21 Comments

The quiet between us
like floating icebergs
frostbit tongues in stillness.

Is it that we have forgotten what to say
misplaced our formula to speak,
a habitual slow retreat to safety?

“What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing.”

I am uncertain how to start the
defrost cycle.

First shared on The Drabble

who am i – poem from whisperthatecho

Quote ~ November 22, 2019 ~ Ali Grimshaw ~ 2 Comments

What is love to me.
What is love?
What am i to love.
What am i?

Who are you to me.
Who are you?
Who are we to them.
Who are we?

Where are we to Mars.
Where are we?
Where am i to you.
Where am i?

What is love to me.
What is love?
Who am i to love.
Who am i?

I don’t often share poems from other blog sites but this one speaks so clearly to me of the simple power of love. Soak it in. who am i, from the blog Whisperthatecho

And they sang through the cracks of pain through the wandering worries through the regrets, determined desires to be true to their calling hearts.

And they sang because song was needed because together their voices lifted because all else didn’t make sense because they could.

And others joined the circle

and they sang.

Send a poem to your friends.

Your phrases landed on the floor between us. I didn’t know how to catch them.

Your breathless words carried a story of near miss. One collection of minutes that almost restructured my life.

Like flower petals blown away by the wind altering forever

their attachment to the stem.

Never again to unite in bloom’s beauty.

A reminder of the impermanence of us.

© Alicia Grimshaw 2020 (Rewrite of a poem shared in 2017)

Send a poem to your friends.

It doesn’t need

to be earned

fought for, proven.

It cannot be purchased

or owed.

True love is given

just because.

I hope that you notice

that love has landed on you today.

I hope you let yourself feel it.

© Ali Grimshaw 2020

Send a poem to your friends.

Your silhouetted resilience

of an almost ageless traveler

with kid’s eyes of curious.

Ready for all that is,

wildly wondrous.

Unwilling to miss a viewpoint

be it window wide

or mountaintop.

Fractured city lights illuminate

all the bold and beloved

I see in you.

© Ali Grimshaw 2020

Send a poem to your friends.

And the words were ladled out to fill her, like warm soup for a bleak benumbed soul in need

she had forgotten to feed her spirit, an inner child who waited patient for her spoonful

another day here was possible

© Ali Grimshaw 2020

Send a poem to your friends.

Can we just hold hands, stop the world and just hold hands? Yours in mine. Hers in hers. His in theirs. Fingers intwined bridge across to touch.

Send a poem to your friends.

Send a poem to your friends.

Love is there, open

for you, arms outstretched to

embrace, let it be.

© Ali Grimshaw 2019

Send a poem to your friends.

First shared on The Drabble

Send a poem to your friends.

Send a poem to your friends.

And they sang
through the cracks of pain
through the wandering worries
through the regrets, determined desires
to be true to their calling hearts.

And they sang
because song was needed
because together their voices lifted
because all else didn’t make sense
because they could.

Your phrases landed
on the floor between us.
I didn’t know how to catch them.

Your breathless words carried
a story of near miss.
One collection of minutes
that almost
restructured my life.

Like flower petals
blown away by the wind
altering forever

their attachment
to the stem.

A reminder of
the impermanence of us.

And the words were ladled out
to fill her, like warm soup
for a bleak benumbed soul in need

she had forgotten to feed her
spirit, an inner child who waited
patient for her spoonful

Can we just hold hands,
stop the world
and just hold hands?
Yours in mine.
Hers in hers.
His in theirs.
Fingers intwined
bridge across
to touch.