Sometimes I think back on that night.
Your eyes intent on explaining, a look of determination,
of wanting to give.
I remember trying to hear you,
wanting to understand and failing to understand.
With each new telling, static filling the room.
Making adjustments to find your frequency.
Unable to tune you in.
Now I am left wondering.
What was it you so badly wanted me to know.
Feeling like I couldn’t get to the airport in time,
before your message took flight.
© Ali Grimshaw
Tweeting and yelping and posting and texting
so much to say
words flying, tumbling, and flung fast
landing so loudly
I cannot hear the song of your voice
knock on my door
at least let me try to hear your words
as they fall from your mouth
with nothing added but fresh air
© Ali Grimshaw
You are a blue sky.
A color that I love to get lost in.
A consistent and ever-changing
backdrop for others,
and stand alone marvel.
Sometimes filled with challenging clouds
opening my eyes
to visions of blue
I’ve not seen.
© Ali Grimshaw
As I take the stage, a new act begins.
Blame like a heavy blanket covers me.
A character from my past has written my lines for today.
I was, who I was… in that story.
I could not have been the lessons I had yet to learn.
My history dictates the life I have in this scene.
You enter the stage to stand with me
placing a firm foot on my blanket’s corner.
Silent action that commits to my life what no other has.
Unwilling to let me sleep walk in darkness.
As I step forward lighter than before.
no longer reciting a past script,
I speak my first words.
© Ali Grimshaw
In fading light,
glowing colors blend
and it is impossible to tell
where one begins. So it is
with you and I. When did I begin on my own?
So many years you nurtured and cooked, rocked,
encouraged, and cared for me while fighting for yourself.
As we unblended and became our separate colors, lessons were learned.
What was said and what was left empty in the room for me to choose.
The boundary of where you stood, lines I sometimes crossed.
In the mirror of the years I am in awe of your effort.
You gave, at minimum, years of listening
with your whole face turned toward mine.
Intent on taking each word in
not letting a single one
escape your ear.
Mother’s Day 2016 – Dedicated to my mother and her commitment to keeping her colors vibrant while letting me find my own.
© Ali Grimshaw 2016
Let me send my love to you
lightly floating on the wind.
A force that sails ships across the ocean.
Let my kisses evaporate into the clouds.
When they reach your shore,
love will rain down upon you.
© Ali Grimshaw
The falling rain washing clean the road,
pooling for the birds,
freeing the leaves.
These many drops,
falling like the sky wants to share,
a blessing for so many.
Looking at my upturned face,
you wonder why I yearn for dark clouds to let loose.
Pouring forth all they have been holding.
The sky’s release streams down my head, my cheeks.
A trickle drips from my nose tip.
The storm and I let this wind blow through.
The raindrops hiding,
what you will never know,
are tears on my face.
© Ali Grimshaw
By knowing you,
I find myself.
Now and 90 years wrinkled.
My doubts don’t exist in your eyes.
You see the chipped edges and
places worn raw from not retreating.
The rough, abeyant curves of my puzzle.
You see my essence of spirit.
gently holding it all up,
like a mirror before me,
so that I can see,
for myself,
who I am becoming.
© Ali Grimshaw 2016
While you were away,
my heart expanded,
exploring new pathways,
journeying inside and out.
My life has grown
and yet I have not lost you.
We are still holding the
same thread,
forever woven,
into both of our hearts.
You never left.
while you were away.
© Ali Grimshaw
Dedicated to my dear friend Kirsten Schwabel and with gratitude to Neha’s blog Forgottenmeadows.
line straight as the horizon
faintly blue as sky meets sea
each edged finger-width apart
my words lay cushioned by these layers
some smeared by my own hand
it was not by accident that I wrote to you
between the lines and not on them.
© Ali Grimshaw
flashlight batteries - Ali Grimshaw 