A poem of safety, and being seen — I think of you, When I rest my head in my bed, my bones extra weary, and my heart as heavy as my feet as they slide beneath the covers. Won’t you come in? I see you, already in my bed, and you turn and pull me close and I breathe…

Lit Up — April’s Prompt: Distraction — There’s a ‘drip, drip’ coming from the sink, that I haven’t fixed, it’s been some time, but that sink is my mind and that ‘drip’ is the ‘drip, drip’ of things slipping, I keep tripping over time (or is it space?) I can’t keep a handle on this place, it’s…

Free verse —

free verse — Fully present, I, Taking in vibrations, movements. Eyes shine, mouth wrinkles. Do I take this for granted? Am I really truly present? Would I listen more if I knew, for a time this is the last time, I would meet someone new? Pressure heavy, people to feed. Keep the mood light, wrestle with carts filled high with lunches for hungry humans, hearts wrested to a cause, together united.

Tenuous thread moving through the eye of the needle meant for me. For the hole in my blue jeans, a small spot not as strong, more compressed, feeling the pressure so much more than the rest of her sisters, those fibers and threads woven tightly together til the weight was too great and a kneel gave way to a widening chasm torn asunder. ‘I can help you mend it’, come the gentle words from my mother. On my own I don’t quite know just how I’d sew it shut. Jeans must come off, wrenched inside-out. Deft strokes follow, back and forth: armed with courage, built up by love, kissed with kindness. Slowly the hole becomes smaller, before it disappears. But still it must be treated gently, more tenderly.

Free verse — Stillness, sigh. Oh that my longing could be contained in a word. Would the word be too heavy to hold? Maybe by I…but by We? My singular strength being weak, sometimes completely deplete-ted, So would your You be enough for me too?

from a twenty-something whose looking for it too. — The day that I realized I couldn’t remember how much student debt I was in, had no idea how much money was leaving my account each month for automatic bill payments, and whether or not I actually had enough money to stop and get that coffee before work…was the day…

Free verse — The sun, it calms my heart and soothes my tender mind, as I sit and soak the rays into my skin. Like a plant, I’m addicted, convicted by, and bound to the photosynthesis, all the premises of my life bent on one job: Converting light energy carefully to chemical energy, like mitochondria but with the sun.

Free verse — Air fills lungs, as breath comes deep. Sweet oxygen for a moment replacing my need for sleep. Loud minds, louder than a thousand out-loud voices condemning my choices in the day-to-day. Stop! Stillness…sigh… I feel. Hear nothing. This is what Earth feels like: cool and wet, letting my back sink into it, my hair unkempt. Sloppy kiss of affirmation, that all my fears and consternation matter not.