A different view
relationships
Windstorm
knocked down
like a tree after a storm
my trunk horizontal
broken limbs at odd angles
body left with jagged holes exposed
pieces scattered near and far down the lane
some parts even seem to have disappeared
now I think I understand how humpty dumpty felt
there isn’t a way to put the pieces back together
it is time to start again
look for fertile soil
plant myself where sunlight will reach me.
© Alicia Grimshaw 2017
On the other side…
Beyond Boundaries
There is no hourglass
of time
in love.
It matters not,
if months or years pass,
love is beyond physical bodies
beyond boundaries.
Like a favorite song
heard from the middle of the tune.
There is no less joy to listen.
Locked away, rust resistant
“Love has no expiration date.”
© Alicia Grimshaw 2017
Photo taken in 2016 while hiking on the Cinque Terre in Italy.
Nonverbal Communication
© Alicia Grimshaw 2017
Beginning
Wrap yourself in the miracle of this sunrise.
Open eyes
Open ears
Open heart
Cry for even one life that is not yet free
unable to see the sun.
A stranger arrives at the bus stop.
“How’s your morning going?”
Look into his eyes, instead of away
as he answers.
Ask him if he saw the sunrise.
© Alicia Grimshaw 2017
Opening Up
Under the tree, sitting
knee to knee while
randomly, snow petals
drift down between us.
‘How can we begin again?
After all, I don’t trust.
I have forgotten how, or…
maybe I never knew.’
While branches above blossom yearly
growth regardless of weather.
‘I guess the question is,
how badly do I
want to blossom?’
© Alicia Grimshaw 2017
“Poetry is the journal of the sea animal living on land, wanting to fly in the air. Poetry is a search for syllables to shoot at the barriers of the unknown and the unknowable. Poetry is a phantom script telling how rainbows are made and why they go away.” — Carl Sandburg, from The Atlantic, March 1923.
Want Ad
Wanted:
A listener.
Intent on feeling instead of hearing my words.
Eager to sift out the ones I have outgrown
return those that call my name, carry me forward,
speak them like a trail to follow when I am lost.
Will utter truth even when it cracks my surface.
Incapable of withholding even a syllable of himself
with the knowing it will suffocate our tomorrows.
Who will remember my voice,
long after I’ve gone.
Curiosity a must.
© Alicia Grimshaw 2017
Music from the field
If the grasses could sing,
a pure note from each blade
their chorus accompanied by
angled beams of light
on each swaying tip
beyond this
yet unheard melody
is my love for you.
© Ali Grimshaw 2017
Conversation on the beach
The breeze picked up
your words were carried away
by the gusts. My heart on the beach alone
as we continued to walk, I remained
jealous of the wind
holding your words so close.
© Ali Grimshaw 2017
flashlight batteries - Ali Grimshaw 