Celebrate Summer.
Don’t wait.
Be present to it’s taste.
Poetry
Seasonal Departure
At the station, the train of life only pauses
our illusion of control blankets nature’s causes.
Nights to days shift, and the engineer steers
rhythm of the planet moves through the years.
Cycle of no endings, wheels freely spin
untouchable by human error, solstice arrives again.
© Alicia Grimshaw 2018
Couplets for the Solstice – dVerse poetry challenge
Remove one brick.
© Alicia Grimshaw 2017
Boundaries
Resilience
To open, fold back each layer
expose your inner colors
is nothing small.
I see courage in your willingness
to fully bloom. Expose the tender.
A relentless showing under a threatening sky.
After the loss of petals, burnt leaves.
You still choose the sun over fear
knowing the rains never stop
and summer doesn’t last.
© Alicia Grimshaw 2018
Invisible Weight
Your bones scream to rest
an anvil on your chest
no dawn comes lightly.
Invite the monster to sit with you
it gains ugliness with denial
put your arm around that which
you don’t want to hold.
© Alicia Grimshaw 2018
“When you come out of the grips of a depression there is an incredible relief, but not one you feel allowed to celebrate. Instead, the feeling of victory is replaced with anxiety that it will happen again, and with shame and vulnerability when you see how your illness affected your family, your work, everything left untouched while you struggled to survive. We come back to life thinner, paler, weaker … but as survivors. Survivors who don’t get pats on the back from coworkers who congratulate them on making it.” – Jenny Lawson’s book Furiously Happy
Sunday afternoon meditation in the backyard
Ok, breathe
ease back in the chair.
Breathe. Ahh. Blue sky in my backyard.
Oh no. Not leaf blower man.
I thought he moved.
Breathe. Let it all go. You are free.
See? It stopped. Listen to the birds.
Close your eyes.
Breathe.
What? Not again? This is noise pollution!
Slow. Feel your body in this space.
Who invented this *&%$# thing?
What ever happened to my silent friend, The Rake?
Breathe. Let it go.
This too shall pass.
Remember the teacher said find calm within chaos,
Breathe. I bet he didn’t have leaf blower man
nextdoor.
Inhale.
Exhale.
© Alicia Grimshaw 2018
For the Thursday d’Verse challenge. My first contrapuntal poem. Contrapuntal are poems that intertwine two (or more) separate poems into a single composition.
Courage rides the train
They stepped onto the train that day
unaware of the choice the ride included.
When the voice of hate screamed
the two stood as stone, unwilling to look away.
Unified strangers woven into a safety net
flung over the young ones
a protective cover given without request
those two hearts knew what freedom
to live without fear was worth.
The cost of standing up, as the train moved into tomorrow
was life itself.
In this morning’s memory mirror
I wonder if I would be brave enough
to ride as they did.
© Alicia Grimshaw 2018
Dedicated to the men who died a year ago in Portland, Oregon as they stood to defend two young women. My heart breaks for the loved ones of Ricky Best, father of four and US Army veteran, and Taliesan Namkai-Meche a recent college graduate. In honor of these two and the countless others who have stood up against hate please join me in acts of kindness wherever you live. Love is the only answer.
For more information read this Washington Post article, ‘Final act of bravery’: Men who were fatally stabbed trying to stop anti-Muslim rants identified
Those that came before
We are held
by unseen hands
family that came before
to hack through the wild
make a trail.
We are held
by their stories, mistakes
and courage. Rightness,
who is to blame
the tinted glasses we wear.
We are held
within their intentions
by the invisible imagination
of their hearts.
© Ali Grimshaw 2018
Inspired by this quote from Moorezart “We all carry, inside us, people who came before us.” ― David Mitchell, The Cloud Atlas
Photo from Pixabay
My Guide
A love note to my mother. The one who lead me to the forest.
© Ali Grimshaw
flashlight batteries - Ali Grimshaw 