Tag: routine

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.

back home

~ jennadawn ~ Leave a comment

Back home
to reality
of the daily routine
mundane in comparison
to protected time in a bubble, for sport.

Back to the dishes piled high in the sink,
dust settled on the furniture,
the pen and paper on the kitchen counter
picked up every now and then
to note another to-do
not to be forgotten.

Back to the commitment
of, every day,
working to better myself,
carving away more marble from the sculpture
of the life I want to live,
bringing it into the light.

waters need to ripple

~ jennadawn ~ Leave a comment

Every once in a while
things change.
The routine we once carried out automatically
requires revision.

Can we take the moment to appreciate
how nothing can stay the same
and how sometimes
it’s putting ourselves first
that invites the water to ripple?

Waters need to ripple
to help the river flow.

a routine to maintain upkeep

~ jennadawn ~ Leave a comment

With the cloth in my hand
I wipe away the dust, the grime,
make the porcelain shine white
and smell like lemons.

Week after week, it’s become a routine
to maintain upkeep.

With the breath flowing in and out of my nose,
I wipe away the splattered remnants
of anxiety’s lashes,
where she’s struck out against my body,
trying to take control of me.
My breath restores the light,
so I can shine, and smell like lemons.

Day after day, moment after moment,
minute after minute,
it’s become a routine
to maintain upkeep.

the familiar returns

~ jennadawn ~ Leave a comment

Resuming a sense of normalcy
from before, before the world changed.
But, isn’t the world always changing
and we just hardly notice?

The familiar offers comfort and routine
back into the voids structure has vacated.
Remember when this was all we knew
and expected?

My perspective has changed
and maybe, so have I in this process.
I feel little familiarity, scarce comfort;
unease and inquisition sit with me instead,
surrounded by those basking in normalcy’s return.
Must it all return to how it was before?