Let's linger
in Autumn glow
befriending dusk on its way
to cloak us with comfort
ease our worries loose
to fall.
Pausing here
we become one with this
seasonal scene of hush
before continuing our saunter
harvesting what matters most
from this day.
© Ali Grimshaw 2024
“Noticing you’ve lost your balance is part of finding it again. Recognizing (and normalizing) imbalance is part of rebalancing.” – Lea Seigen Shinraku
Check out Lea’s free Love Yourself Now With Art Journaling Workshop on October 6 HERE.
Rebalancing
when she noticed her tilt
an unequal stance leaning toward tumble
she was lucky enough to remember
and send herself love to reorient,
instead of judgement
when the rainstorm arrived
she welcomed it without resistance
befriending her tipping vessel
rebalancing was just part of living
she could find her way drenched,
as well as, dry
I have found writing with others to be a beautiful way to rebalance. Join me for an upcoming circle of poems, writing, and reflective listening. Email to register at coaching@aligrimshaw.com
Upcoming Writing Circles:
Saturday, October 12, 9:30 – 11:00 am PDT $20
Saturday, November 2, 9:30 – 11:00 am PDT $20
Saturday, December 7, 9:30 – 11:00 am PDT $20
During this one day of balanced light, I feel a lack of evenness. I’m ok with this. Acceptance has befriended me. I used to believe in a balanced lifestyle. I pushed and pulled my daily life to create this ideal. Now I am no longer focused on this achievement. Instead, I am chasing aliveness like a kite must feel the wind. I wish for floating and exhilaration to be part of my journey but I don’t expect it always. I am no longer keeping score of ups and downs and the need for them to equal out weekly. I am taking it as it comes with the hopeful intention of keeping my noticing alive. My noticing of a leaf color like a work of art. My noticing the clouds visiting the sky. My noticing of the tender light of dusk turning even the harsh landscapes golden. Tomorrow will hold a little more darkness yet some nights there will be stars.
tilt neither toward, nor away
acceptance lights us
tonight darkness leans closer
© Ali Grimshaw 2024
Join us at dVerse for a celebration of Haibun Monday: Equinox. HERE
“Take bread away from me, if you wish, take air away, but
do not take from me your laughter.” – Pablo Neruda
Like rain on wildfire
I am quenched by your voice.
I hadn't realized my shrunkenness
my dehydrated heart in wait.
Your laugh rippled across the crowd.
I could feel your presence of lightness in its cadence.
It is all the more precious to hear
knowing that life isn't easy for you.
Your laughter is like a defiant call
of the joy riding alongside the grief.
I feel it in my dancing bones
as I twirl toward your part of the floor.
© Ali Grimshaw 2024
This poem is dedicated to my friend, Valerie. Her laugh is steadfast and generous. It always makes my heart smile. Whose laugh lights up your day? I hope you will let them know.
Join a welcoming group of poets at dVerse Poets' Pub for this poetics challenge. You can visit HERE.
Life is short,
love big.
Ali
"Cause a little bit of summer is what the whole year is about." - John Mayer
blue bicycle with banana seat
pedaling freedom
handlebar tassels in the wind
berry-stained fingerprints
juice of summer gods
anointed by sunshine days
of tree limb lounging
bushwacking our trails
until the dinner-bell
dirt-clod fights
"you're on our team"
where the good guys
always win
© Ali Grimshaw 2024
Photo of Wakeena Falls, Oregon. It is one of my favorite places to hike to in the summer.
Visit a friendly poetry community at dVerse Poets’ Pub for Quadrille Monday. Join the fun HERE.
And the rhythm continues, yellow round, orange round, red
tiny parts of bright aliveness making up the whole.
Are the boundaries holding us together or separating us by hue?
Each is playing a part in the view.
One beside the other,
next two, in front of, beside. Are we leaning unequally
or holding each other up?
How far would we need to back up
before seeing the whole picture? Remember up close
never looks the same as from across the room.
Squint your eyes a little. Now look again.
Notice how the colors grow toward midnight as it meets in the center.
Could this be a reminder to see darkness as a place to rest
maybe even a place of beauty
instead of fighting our way to where we think we belong?
© Ali Grimshaw 2024
You are invited to dVerse Poets’ Pub to write something beautiful in response to this artwork by Alma Thomas, The Eclipse (1970). Join in the fun HERE. Thank you, Melissa, for getting me writing today. It felt like releasing a big sigh and the air returned to fill my lungs without effort.
Somewhere near the produce
between the oranges and tumbling peppers
a song, Ed Sheeran is singing
and the tears arrive, as I listen.
(I don't usually cry in public but the emotion is undeniable.)
I am still as a river rock, while the shoppers flow around,
struck by hearing the words I couldn't hear before.
I let their message in
feeling what you were trying to say.
What I was unable to receive before.
I don't care that I am crying next to the bananas.
It feels so good to be loved by you.
© Ali Grimshaw 2024
Sometimes the light turns red before we have left the intersection leaving our tail end vulnerable sometimes our brakes don’t work, spinning on black ice with blurred windows of reaction sometimes we must go slowly, inching through the fog in faith blinded by dense thoughts sometimes breakdowns leave us on the rainy roadside unpacking resourcefulness sometimes forgiveness shows up like an invitation an off-ramp never seen before sometimes we just need to stay on the road grip and steer This was written in 2019 and still resonates with me today. This driving metaphor definitely places me in a car-centered culture. Each of us is navigating our way through the day. Be kind and assume the best intentions of others.
Join a welcoming group of poets for Open Link Night -dVerse Poets’ Pub HERE.
I took this photo in Lisbon, Spain. Such a fun curve in the street.
Posted on The Drabble in 2022. You can find some great short poems on this site.
before becoming
Mother Bird, she heard forest
leaves speak layered peace
© Ali Grimshaw 2024
Photo taken on a walk in the Karura Forest, Kenya.
She led me to
the library, fed stories to my ears
taught me how to keep the family blood circulating
to pull my shoulders back, stand proud
she showed me laughter around the table
camping in cold rain, beauty beyond lipstick
the effective use of stubborn determination
she made a million meals without consideration
flowered apron ready dinners with a smile
Did she even enjoy cooking?
I don't remember anyone asking her.
She washed clothes, replacing them in drawers
a revolving door of dirty to clean
just another behind the scenes devotion.
How much did we notice the way
she kept the boat afloat
watching for leaks while we slept.
© Ali Grimshaw 2024
This poem is in honor of my mother, grandmothers, and all the mothers in my family tree who made me who I am today. Thank you.
Happy Mother's Day
Join a welcoming community of poets
at dVerse Poets' Pub, HERE
for Open Link Night. Share one poem
of your choosing and read what other's
share.
flashlight batteries - Ali Grimshaw 