Fierce self-compassion
navigating times of change.
Do the best I can.
Tag: poetry
virtual retreat
The past four days
have been a gift.
Coming here,
to the office desk space
beneath the east-facing window
in the back bedroom of the house.
Here,
in a space both virtual and physical
I have reunited with her,
my creativity,
the part of me prone to playing
hide and seek
for now, has settled with me.
Notebook pages
have been filled with ink,
Word documents
have word counts spanning thousands
and all due
to my first-ever writing retreat.
Virtual connection
with writers ranging ages,
provinces and experience,
helped me feel safe
to feel, to release,
and to create,
with much more yet to come.
Deep and heartfelt appreciation to the Saskatchewan Writers’ Guild for creating this opportunity.
challenge the constructs
Sometimes
to find
authenticity
and embodiment
you must challenge
the constructs engrained
and choose
to build anew.
Wind rustles the trees
Wind rustles the trees
Air colder than the sun’s light
Transition to spring.
shifting
Periods of writing
have become few and far between.
Me,
settling into the slowness
of the lingering winter season
with her cool air and cloudy skies.
I grant permission
to embrace slowness.
This is a time to absorb
creativity around me,
to focus less on creating.
Shifting projects, priorities,
selecting new sources of inspiration.
Seasons shift,
evolve,
surprise and endure.
tap into darkness
Tap into darkness –
that’s where poetry can live.
Cast light upon it.
writing on weekends
Writing on weekends
words flowing from the stillness
my mind exploring.
letter(s) to you
I wonder if these poems
would count as letters
or fragments of a letter
to you
to help me process the mistakes
that led to losing you.
walking away from anxiety
Noticing, how
when I leave the house
ridden with anxiety
my breaths are short and shallow,
my steps quick and rigid,
resisting the urge to run and cry
at the same time,
anything to make this feeling go away.
After ten minutes
my breaths are short
but deep on the inhale,
strong and forceful on the exhale.
After twenty minutes
my breaths deepen
my stride lengthens
and I find a rhythm.
And after thirty minutes,
maybe more,
I feel the anxiety release its final talon
and fly away.
My breathing calm,
my steps easy,
I walk a bit further
to soak in this feeling
a little longer.
Let me soak in this feeling
just a little bit longer.
bacteria and toxins and irritants
My body must be trying to tell me something
with her relentless outbursts
manifesting as
psoriasis
and eczema
and acne
and cysts
across my scalp
around my eyes
splattered on my face
because why not?
Creams and lotions
and acne-fighting facial cleansers
deploy to the offensive efforts.
Success is slow
and interjected with flare-ups.
I wonder if my body
is trying to rid herself
of bacteria and toxins and irritants.
I wonder if my body
is unintentionally attracting
bacteria and toxins and irritants
and for some reason
absorbing them, unable to let go?
I don’t like to see, to feel,
my body fighting a war
so I employ the creams and lotions
and acne-fighting facial cleansers
to help her restore balance and calm.
I know not for sure
her true message,
but her anguish is undeniable.
Dawning Words 