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.
Tag: poetry
of daydreaming
People say all the right things,
make the opportune gestures,
and be everything we want them to be,
ourselves included.
Perfection is attainable,
if we can meet the right person
where everything will fall into place.
That’s the trouble,
and addicting allure,
of daydreaming.
mole hills into mountains
Sometimes
all it takes,
is listening to
and empathizing with others
to realize,
no matter how real
my pain and struggles may seem,
my mind often gets the better of me
and turns mole hills
into mountains.
how fast change happens
We can see
hundreds of different sunsets
all in one night,
a kaleidoscope of colors,
where to look away even for a minute
and look back again,
decorates our eyes with a brand new view,
and we wonder,
at how fast change happens.
We can see this,
marvel at and treasure
our lives, and how fast change happens,
with this same sense of wonder
if we choose.
disguising vessels
I can see through you,
trying to disguise yourself
and using other bodies as vessels
just to get to me
as I try to push you away.
I admire your persistence though.
I would probably do the same thing
myself.
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.
hidden from sight
Sunshine still penetrates
through the clouds, soft and dense,
though the sun remains hidden from sight.
Sometimes
you don’t have to see it
to believe it.
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 