Hopeful Intention

 

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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.”

– Joanna Macy, respected voice in the movements for peace, justice, and ecology.

dVerse – Open Link Night

32 Degrees – Poem by Ali Grimshaw

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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.

© Ali Grimshaw 2019

First shared on The Drabble

Liberation – poem by Ali Grimshaw

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Within this cold capsule
unable to expand, frozen
limbs ache with limitations
of tight thoughts.

let thaw my mind
melting madness, tips to toes
until I sting with vitality
of circulation returning.

unwilling to still my spirit
any longer, wind brings
deliverance of movement.

© Ali Grimshaw 2019

December Quadrille – dVerse

who am i – poem from whisperthatecho

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

Leaf Man – poem by Ali Grimshaw

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He brings me one each day

contrasts in shape, varied vibrancy

burnt red to ripe peach, presented

on the kitchen counter until evening

arrives at our window.

 

Held in his palm, our eyes meet

this wrinkled single donation

textured hues, imperfect edges

color story of today to cherish,

a temporary prize between us.

 

Trees give without expecting

something in return. Thankfully,

so does he.

 

© Ali Grimshaw 2018

May you find someone to share the beauty of nature with today.

dVerse Poet’s Pub – Open Link Night