Tower over me like a tree
thickening the air with leaves and branches
until all the light is blocked
and it’s just you and me
beneath,
together in the dark.
Tag: anxiety
give them a voice to leave you
Adorn your fears, your insecurities,
your uncertainties,
with vocality.
Give them a voice, give them sounds
so they can leave you
and live here, out in the open,
under the observation of perspectives
other than your own.
You cannot do this all on your own.
We are here to help you.
emotions from a wild mind
Taking control over me
they have climbed into the driver’s seat
to steer off in a new direction
deviating so far from where I was
and wanted to stay.
Emotions
turned free from a wild mind
to cause mayhem and disrupt the planned route,
pushing me to the cliff’s edge
without my feet ever touching the ground.
Too far to turn back around,
I cannot jump back on to the ledge
once I descend in air,
so I fall
and drag you with me.
If only I could take a firmer hold of the wheel
and stay in the lane,
I would.
discomfort of stillness
I will meet you in the discomfort
of stillness,
where distractions are forcibly removed,
leaving no alternative option
but to stay here, in the stillness,
until it becomes comfortable.
A wave crashes
A wave crashes into the sand,
the sand unmarked and smooth
with no footprint left of human or animal,
smooth.
A wave crashes into the sand,
obliterating any remnant peace or calm
once there,
leaving rough, disturbed rocks
strewn about haphazardly
as the water rescinds back into the ocean.
A wave crashes into the sand
like a monster rears his head,
with destruction looming
even while he waits, patiently,
to attack.
just sit
Grant myself permission
to sit, just sit
here, with a glass of wine
and blanket wrapped around my shoulders,
eyes fixed, but unfocused
on the flickering candle
there, on the coffee table.
Sit. Just sit,
and do nothing else.
my face tells the story
My face often gives it away;
how I’m really feeling
without a need for accompanying words.
Lately,
it tells of inner turmoil,
expectations too high for me to reach
and overflowing from my plate,
excessive concern and worry
and wishing that things were different,
that I was different.
Raised, reddened bumps
with under-eye shadows
and a new crease or two I do not recall before;
they really tell the story.
leave this pain behind
I want to run away, escape,
leave this pain behind
in my rearview mirror
and dust.
I have learned what it sought
to teach me,
know where I still need to grow
and even how pain can help.
I know this. I understand this.
But I want it to go away.
buried treasure
Work it out,
like a tangled, tight knot
in the back of your neck
that when your fingers land on it
after searching across skin for miles,
it’s like finding buried treasure.
Flex the fingers,
open wide the treasure box
then dig deep, down,
until you find the bottom.
I find buried treasure all over
and throughout my body,
but this large box before me
was difficult to open.
My flexed fingers digging in deep
will show me what’s inside,
for everything is treasure
if viewed with an open mind.
how the trees let go
Just look at the trees,
look at their willingness to
embrace change,
let go of what they no longer need
and try again later,
when the Earth warms again in spring.
How easily they can let go
is how I, too, need to let go.
Dawning Words 