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.
Standing among violent shouting,
Angry vibrations pounding near.
Shuddering as the volume increases.
A roar of hate that can consume.
Inward I listen.
As the noise recedes,
I follow my breath
to a humming heart.
Steady in its love.
It walks where I walk.
It sleeps where I sleep.
Noise of the world cannot drown its pulse,
this calming cadence.
Internal rhythm.
Strength drawn from all that lives
lies inside me
and all beings.
Waiting to be heard.
© Ali Grimshaw
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
They arrived unattached,
expecting nothing in return,
only wanting to be heard.
Now we reside together in the rocking chair.
I open to a blank page to welcome them home.
© Ali Grimshaw
Huddled with survival,
dying coals radiate little warmth.
walk toward that which lights your fire.
fuel the love light inside yourself.
When the wind blows and blows fiercely.
Your glowing flame will remain.
Untouchable.
© Ali Grimshaw
Awake in the darkness with a different kind of knowing.
One of souls connected in an absence of time.
Understanding not limited by words.
A sigh that offers comfort,
only possible from the deep inhale proceeding it.
Melding without becoming one.
A miracle of wholeness from separate beings.
© Ali Grimshaw
Valentine’s Day 2016
I would rather be meandering,
in the world of a single question,
than sitting with the answer,
back on the shore,
drinking from the same cup,
gazing out the kitchen window,
at the fleeting white sails.
© Ali Grimshaw
Stalled on the bridge, in between here and there.
I look back to all I have built.
What is still standing and what is no longer in service.
Hoping others will use these spaces, be thoughtful about repairs.
That tall one will need a new roof.
Some may be too weathered to save.
Pausing on the bridge, in between here and there.
I look ahead to wide open space.
What could be built and what is needed.
Beauty that can only be created by elements and time.
A center which radiates the harmony of shade trees.
Bare hands joining for strength that I alone do not have.
I remain next to the railing.
water rushing beneath.
No longer who I was.
Not yet who I am becoming.
© Ali Grimshaw
A crack,
followed by a breaking open.
As the walls fall,
you will no longer be contained,
held separate.
Grieve and they shall crumble,
until the last stone is still.
Leaving you in a field of golden openness.
Wide and light.
No need for protection.
Bare.
In the warm air.
By Ali Grimshaw
flashlight batteries - Ali Grimshaw 