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
Could this be the final day
of an autumn that I thought would last?
A mellowing of red between us
once crackling emotions now dust bits
collected in a whirling dervish
carried away in the wind.
Now I am an empty street waiting
for the street light to click on.
Predictable and ever awed
by the chance
to begin again.
© Alicia Grimshaw Reposting from 2016
One day I finally knew that I could swim
in the blue of the sky.
That I was as strong as I declared myself to be.
That my fears were teachers made just for me.
That there would always be cracks to slip through
times of trembling, shaken awake to fall again.
Then I stood next to the lake,
a mirror of blue sky wholeness,
arms wide with acceptance
I, the problem and solution
dove into a
reflection of release.
© Alicia Grimshaw 2017
Take in Varenna, Italy 2016
Awakened to the heaviness. A push
to breathe through a cage too small.
Despair sits on her chest, hands over her mouth.
Alone on this journey, he is no companion
just a magnetic pull toward the mattress
that she wishes never to leave.
He knows what others do not.
That she can’t put it down.
An unseeable stone she carries alone.
How much easier to be pulled under
than to keep afloat.
A desire for lightness like dust
in a ray of light.
If she only knew
invisible hands surround.
Waiting. Just waiting.
For her to say the word.
Help.
© Alicia Grimshaw 2017
National Suicide Prevention Week September 10 – 16, 2017
http://stopasuicide.org/index.php
Reach out. Listen. You could save a life.
I remain
steadfast
on the shoreline
tethered, weathered
yet still afloat.
My life preserver
ready to be thrown
your way.
Waiting
for your signal.
© Alicia Grimshaw 2017
National Suicide Prevention Week September 10 – 16, 2017
http://stopasuicide.org/index.php
Reach out. You could save a life.
Photo Challenge – Waiting Photo taken in Varenna Italy, 2016.
Parched again
cup empty
I guzzle gratitude
the only liquid
to quench the thirst
of fear.
© Alicia Grimshaw 2017
Your phrases landed on the floor
between us. I didn’t know how to catch them.
Strings of words, a story of near miss.
One collection of minutes that almost
restructured my life, like petals
blown away by the wind
never again to unite in beauty.
A reminder of the impermanence of us.
© Alicia Grimshaw 2017
She overcame
her internal screaming toddler,
“I don’t wanna. I don’t wanna.”
Will Power offered a hand
linking her arm in his
to lead around the corner.
Her first step through
this now open door
a route unavailable
to her past self.
© Alicia Grimshaw 2017
Photo taken in Lisbon, Portugal 2017
Breath from within me
floats out to join yours,
to settle on the brown ground beside
join the atmosphere’s chorus
sing with your exhale.
The tree we sit beneath
is not excluded
from this song.
Lightly soft it hums
new life down upon us.
Static on the radio
world leaders move their pieces,
play the game of war.
Under the tree
we continue to breathe each other.
© Alicia Grimshaw 2017/Rewrite 2019
flashlight batteries - Ali Grimshaw 