As you drive down the road of your day
I see you in a large convertible with your top down,
backseat sandwiched full of children.
In front of you, several large cargo trucks with unsecured loads,
packed quickly without care. The disbelief of it all.
You are following without another lane to change into.
I see you, white knuckled, hold on the steering wheel
as odd boxes and papers, like a flock, fly
toward your windshield to temporarily block your view.
Colliding with objects occasionally airborne.
You swerving with the responsibility of sheltering
your children from harm. All while they chatter
and throw questions at you from the rear seat.
A sensory whirlwind of sounds, movement and colors to navigate
as you drive. I see you seeking the stable horizon with your eyes,
to recenter, as events drop and plans bounce away. Readjusting
in the moment, with care, cussing and sometimes crying. Facing
the cracked windshield of the past week. Hair in your eyes, yet determined
to be all you can for your young ones. Your eyes are heavy with sleep.
I just want you to know that I have an empty garage.
Take the next exit to the right.
Yes, I can, and will shelter you for the night.
© Ali Grimshaw 2020
Dedicated to all of the parents navigating during COVID19. Remember to pull over and take breaks.
dVerse Open Link Night
A love note to my mother. The one who lead me to the forest.
© Ali Grimshaw
Her face follows the sun
an anchor of light, trusted to lead while she grew
a warmth of reassurance when her sight was lost
from darkness. A seed born with the knowing
yet unable to realize until the day of blossoming.
She held it all along. Resolve of love, strength to push
through the compacted soil of failure, to stretch
when trampled, to believe in the next dawn
while she remained in the shadow of night.
© Ali Grimshaw 2018 – photo taken on a roadtrip in Spain
“Like sunflowers that stop tracking the sun as they mature, we too begin to respond differently to life as we age. We learn to brave more parts of the day with our heads turned away from the sun, because we realize that we can only know who we are if we let the sun shine behind us and allow it to draw our shadow in front of us, so that we may see how we are really shaped.
We begin to realize how even darkness has its gifts, and how even if we don’t always bask in the light, we can survive.” – When Sunflowers Stop Following The Sun
I was inspired to write this poem after reading this thoughtful article. Never underestimate the power of sharing with careful words.
National Poetry Month 2018
Inside the conversation of contribution
my favorite place to dwell
walls like soft bubble gum that can expand
with the breath of new ideas
to watch you poke, prod, punch
a fist through the wall
on your face the surprised realization
of the awe-filled fluidity, stretched elastic
boundaries you once believed to be walls of stone.
How a soft blow, like cooling off your tea too hot
can open up a whole new room. High rounded ceilings
with space to grow into.
© Alicia Grimshaw 2018
My favorite place to be is inside a coaching conversation listening for another’s dreams. This was a tough idea to capture in a photo. Photo Challenge: Favorite Place
I will write you blue sky
sunlight on yellow flowers.
I will write you a single snowflake
magnified in all its delicate brilliance.
I will write you a cocoon of comfort
a blanket of love you have never known
a full envelope, arriving on the wind, for the day
you need it most.
© Alicia Grimshaw 2016
Photo taken on a family trip to Italy 2016.
Before I walk away,
returning to a new season of my life,
let’s rewind this journey for one
last view. The thrills, near misses,
and countless conversations melted together,
making me the true color I have become.
Wherever I am
is your home
to come back to.
© Alicia Grimshaw
I miss the days of your eyes
a yearning treasure seeker
when I was the X on your map.
© Ali Grimshaw
he will be an island that I cannot reach
an evolving door
a language untranslatable.
You are the bridge, an extension
carrying my voice to him.
will the connection be severed?
Just a recorded message
at the other end.
This line is now disconnected.
© Ali Grimshaw
Discovery Challenge – Connection
The running shoes you left behind
positioned like you evaporated from them
angled as if deserted mid-step
have me wondering
were you ready
to move on to an unknown life
stuffing skills and memories in a backpack
experiences overflowing from unzipped pockets
your back receding into the distance
I have learned the answer to
Are you ever ready?
© Ali Grimshaw