Jump, leap, crawl and claw
there is a world outside
the hamster wheel.
You can step off, drop chains of thought
fall into peace.
Your forgotten power, remains inside,
no superhero costume
necessary.
Only willingness, rejection of old pattern,
refusal of squeaky wheel,
one step, to the side.
© Ali Grimshaw 2017
Rounded Barcelona 2017
Blurred branches of feeling
the intersection of “Not good enough,”
and “You fell for that again?”
awkward limbs that cross
and cross again in confusion. While inches
of growth reach, stretch toward light.
The turbulent angles discretely covered
by feathered orange deliciousness.
A fancy distraction,
just like my sunglasses and hat
a layer of colors,
the perfect cover up to keep
my crack of failure private.
© Ali Grimshaw 2017
Light does not fall on us equally.
There are hours of gentle illumination, while some remain in shadow.
Random flashes which leave you for no reason at the front of the line.
Or the end, randomly burned, scorched,
with head shaking disbelief. Tranquil dusk light on leaves.
Other days blinded into paralysis, unable to see a way forward.
I remain in a thundercloud waiting room, counting shadows like minutes.
Weatherizing my soul before the next hurricane.
Steadfast, determined in my stance, for a return of the glow
In stillness it will find me.
Sun’s warm hand on my back again.
This too shall pass.
© Ali Grimshaw 2017
Like the filthy inside out sock
squished at the bottom of the hamper
under stench of damp rags.
Life can feel like that place.
Maybe it is time to do some laundry.
There is no rule, no prize for
handling it alone,
an unnecessary isolation.
The borrowed red sweatshirt
arms wide on the top of the mound
is not an accidental reminder of love.
Call. Just call.
Call before you change your mind.
That someone has seen dirt before
and will listen.
© Alicia Grimshaw 2017
If you are struggling today check out this blog, The Mighty, You are not alone.
Will you?
Fall, drift, yield
hand in hand,
warm kiss of palms,
veins of life intertwined,
before we,
plunge through crispness
to the other side
of golden.
© Alicia Grimshaw 2017
Now I sit in thought with
what I wish
I would have said
instead of that which came flying off my tongue
like butterflies leaving my mouth
beautiful at first sight
fluttering innocently toward you
with a closer look
upon landing
were really illegal firecrackers
of golden red that
left you speechless.
I’m sorry.
© Ali Grimshaw 2017
Forgive your mistakes. Forgiving Connects.
As I traverse
what do my footprints say?
Those who walk beside
a step behind and to the left will
see them. Mud messages dried
to become solid.
When my legs no longer walk
my tacks will speak out
a decodable message.
I hope you decipher
“Don’t give up.
Keep looking for the footprints
I am with you.”
© Alicia Grimshaw 2017
In dedication to Mother Teresa (1910 – 1997) “Not all of us can do great things. But we can do small things with great love.”
The tree colors sing in unison
settle my rattled soul
unlike any music
ever heard.
This orchestra of leaves
soothes the tempo
that pounds from a
day of instruments
that refused to play
the same song.
© Alicia Grimshaw 2017
flashlight batteries - Ali Grimshaw 