Tag: poetry

More than anyone else

~ jennadawn ~ 2 Comments

More than anyone else from my past
I think of you.

I wonder where life has taken you,
whether it has pulled or guided you
to wherever you are now.

I wonder how much of your personality
would be exactly the same
as it was ten years ago,
like I remember.

I wonder of all the experiences
you have lived through
and how curious I am, and would be,
to hear about them.

I wonder at what it would be like
to see you again.

I wonder how those first few moments
of our reunion
would be filled.
Would there be tentativeness?
Would there be liberation?
Would there be comfort?

I wonder how those last few moments
of our reunion
would be filled.
Would there be longing?
Would there be satisfaction?
Would there be a strengthened friendship?

More than anyone else from my past
I think of you
and wonder
if you wonder these things about me, too.

love and compassion

~ jennadawn ~ Leave a comment

No matter the degree
of mental preparation
of hours spent visualizing potential outcomes
sometimes
things just happen
beyond our control
and it is in those times where we need
love and compassion
above all else.

in a heartbeat

~ jennadawn ~ Leave a comment

Trust that everything you have done
has been for a purpose,
even if that purpose is hidden away in a fog
or disguised as something you do not recognize.

It was not all for nothing,
nothing ever is.

Trust that the light will shine for you
one day,
and that you would do it all over again
in a heartbeat.

new assurances

~ jennadawn ~ 3 Comments

Awaiting events
scheduled into tomorrow’s calendar,
excitement serves as the energy source
stirring the restless butterflies
at the base of my stomach.

There’s a gentle breeze rustling the trees
on this bright Monday morning,
dropping dried-out pine cones to the ground
and stirring up dust in the streets.
On the jostling branches
I can see a few birds, small,
tightly clasping the wood
and chirping, singing, still,
songs of joy.
I can see them, I can hear them,
their assurance of spring’s arrival.

An opportunity to see,
what we have been told is true
by numerical values,
in a different way,
with our own eyes.

silence and solace and freedom

~ jennadawn ~ Leave a comment

I have a safe space
new, but familiar,
where I can escape and spend hours
in my imagination
just like I used to do
when I was young
in the sacred spaces of silence
I could carve out, from reality.

Reuniting with my childhood joy,
I create moments of quiet
for my eyes to rest closed,
drift my body into a half-asleep trance
and let my mind roam free.
Characters, storylines, dialogue,
they all come alive here
weaving into and away from each other
I begin in one place
to end somewhere else, far away
and brand new.

The freedom I feel here
I feel no where else.
Silence and solace and freedom.

the pavement remains dry

~ jennadawn ~ Leave a comment

The weather forecast
predicted a 90% chance of rain
all day today.

Watching through the window
the pavement remains dry.

Predictions are, what they are.

No one can predict the future
and yet,
you prepare for all possible outcomes
as though you will be rewarded for such effort.

Sit with your anxiety
listen deeply to its voice.
What is it really trying to say?

ritual of release

~ jennadawn ~ Leave a comment

Every night,
once the sun has disappeared from the sky
granting space for darkness to expand
I free my body from clothing,
step beneath falling water.

Lights dim,
air moistening and heating,
steam rising as the water falls,
I release.

Wash away the thoughts,
the anxieties, celebrations,
feel them fall away
watch them swirl down the drain.
Sense the new, fertile ground
for new life to bloom from,
within, underneath, skin.

Stand beneath the falling water
eyes closed,
ritual of release.

leave behind perfection

~ jennadawn ~ Leave a comment

Giving excess attention
to details minute
diverts energy away from the purposeful
keeping me stuck in a place
I cannot move.

There are times, like these,
where the details do not matter.
Action matters.

Leave behind perfection:
do
act
move
as a bird released from the cage.

accidents can be beautiful

~ jennadawn ~ Leave a comment

An accidental, yet dramatic, spill
of water across the floor, the couch,
most of the living room, really,
included pages of notebooks.

Faint stains of pink and purple
enhancing the flavor of tap water
paint over the blank canvases of pages
seemingly waiting, longing, for color.

Pages adorn new textures from the places
wet, then dried.
A crunching sound with every flip
refusing to lay flat,
forever changed.
Does a blank page even exist?

Gift an accident the opportunity to be beautiful.

a worthy journey

~ jennadawn ~ Leave a comment

Steps small, steps slow,
are still steps taken,
progress,
no matter their direction.

Even if no one else is watching,
knows your destination
or knows the space you’ve traveled,
you do.
You know.

The journey is long, and slow,
and relies on you to find, and lead, the way.

A worthy journey,
a transformative journey,
to love.