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Saturday, June 24, 2017

Holding A Poem

At times
Holding a poem
That is unfolding inside
Can feel heavy

The words
Lining up
To give voice
To pain

Other times
The poem being held
Links together inside
With ease

The words
Floating and light
In their release

Each poem
In need of shelter
As it forms

The poem
I’m holding inside
Is heavy

And my job
Is only this

To show it respect
And hold it close

And give it the time required
To form the words it needs
To be free

Vulnerable In This World

I can’t help but notice
They are so
In this world

Our children

But over time
With teaching
Lessons can be learned

With practice
Their little bodies
Will get stronger

Until someday
They no longer need
Our protection

I can’t help but notice
They are so
In this world

Our parents

The lessons they
Were meant to learn
Long since learned

Their weakening bodies
Never to be returned
To the strength of the past

From this point forward
They now and will always
Need protection
Our children
Our parents

Standing at
Different ends
Of vulnerable
In this world

Because they are new here
Or preparing to leave here

Each of us
Together here

With those
That we love
Dearly here

Finding our way

Sunday, June 11, 2017

Your Heart Can Take It

Much like when
You can’t imagine

Lifting the weight required
For a final rep

One more burpee
Tacked onto an impossible set

Another pushup
Supported by shaking arms

And you push through anyway
Certain that your heart
Will explode

You learn this

Your heart can take it

In the same way
That your heart
Can take the pain

Of one more devastation

Of a rejection
Unexpected and deep

Of a disappointment
That has all the signs
Of being the one
That finally breaks you apart

Your heart can take it

Your heart can take it in class
Your heart can take it in life

Your heart beats
With a strength
All its own

Holding together
The one
It beats
Inside of

Known Me Well

When I die
All my words
May die too

Erased from cyberspace
Hardcopies tossed away

But my writing
Will not have been
In vain

For by writing
I will
Have known
Me well

And all who’ve read it
Will have known me well

My Own Voice

If you’ve always
Had permission
To speak

Had years of practice
Speaking your truth

Valuing your own thoughts
And expressing them
To others
Who value them
Just as much

Than you can’t know
What’s it like
To not have a voice

To have lived
In many ways

You can’t know
The work
That being heard

How quiet it has to be
For me to acknowledge
My own true feelings
To even myself

How much space
Is required
For me to hear
My own voice

So this is why
You won’t find me
Yelling above the crowd
To be heard
Screaming my truths
To the world
Singing above
A whisper
At times

I’m still learning
To hear
The sound of
My own voice
So that one day
It can be shared