Shadows

Running through a graveyard,

a gray morning.

Skin tight thighs I run...

They know what it is to run,

they learned from example.

But here they run not away,

not toward,

they just run.

It’s complicated -

Run

Shadows draw me in with great strength,

impressive to my ego

eager to please itself and reflect back

great Womanly Strength

like my name,

to wear it well.

A Gray morning.

It’s complicated -

Touch

Words flowing over me like

anger in an out pour

sadness like a sickness

freedom like pain

laughing, it was worth it

happier than before,

but miss those shadows.

Run

Trust whispered the wind...

The answer to my fear is what I fear the most.

The shadows are my own Gray,

not the murky mind of another...

drawn into the maze of their mind

lost without myself.

Give up the metaphors,

touch the horse.

Touch

A reach out

a touch afraid of eyes that know,

harnessing fear of the unknown,

of the beauty bigger than my heart can bear.

Breathing in hands up

release it to the earth that holds you,

strength in bones unknown to me.

Run

To trust

To look you in the eyes

The shadow spaces that draw me in,

proud...

where we dabbled in the dark

to dig deeper and

simmer under the surface

where the knowing knows

where the seeing eye sits behind the eyes,

watching from the shadows.

Touch

Meditations of my pulse

like the day I learned to run again

like the way you looked I couldn't read you

but reached out when I was ready,

you were steady,

we were calm.

A gray morning,

it dawns on me:

Run

Soul quiet now

beneath the surface,

in the shadows, Knowing.

I listen. Muscles under skin,

Waiting to run,

Waiting to touch...

Eyes to know, learning the magic of mystery

and the pain of freedom,

the logic of feeling,

trickery of touch,

trickery of trust:

Touch

Passing days like a cloud

harness whispers of clarity that embrace like the wind,

Coming and going at will in

gusts and stillness and

like a fresh breeze

swift steps

It caught me held me soothed my tired skin...

Trust whispered the wind...

Run

I begins before the touch,

A knowing shared, searched for in

surfaces run deep.

Breathing starts shallow,

push into it.

Breaths run deep,

let it go. Without a plan,

on the edge of unknown,

to know the moment,

to know myself...

Touch

You see me myself back

to be known behind the eyes

around my bones.

In the shadows to connect,

touch, trust.

A time to run

without knowing

where going...

a Gray morning,

it dawns on me,

just

Run

The Glimmer and the Glint

There’s a glint bouncing between our eyes

like the ice on your lashes

like the clinking of our glasses

like the coin in the jukebox

and the music in our ears...

There’s a glimmer dancing between our gaze,

like the spark in the flash of a second,

like the intercession of giggles,

like the miracle of walking on water,

and the warmth of hands in winter...

Our pasts passed in the

present of our presence -

a pause in the play -

recording the now,

repeating the here,

renewed in the cycle of a moment,

With every breath,

we share time,

and the space between.

Night Smiles

[:)]

These eyes have seen the threat of death to a friend, and

I have heard the recent news of it’s time come to family.

The night is where I am, what I need.

These eyes have seen a season of the sun under the gun, and

I have heard more laughter, song, and “I love you”s.

The night is where I am, what I need.

These eyes hold tears damned with gratitude, happiness, and joy, and

I have heard yet that I should let them fall as they come.

The night is where I am, what I need.

These eyes are scared to see what they see, and

I have heard that to feel deep, we must feel it all.

The night is where I am, what I need.

These eyes can see the moon’s warm smile, and

I have heard that the tides are tied to life - they rise, they fall, they cleanse.

The night is where I am, what I need.

These eyes may flood, but we will not drown, will not be washed away.

I have heard it is okay to smile in the dark. It is good to smile, like the moon.

The night is where I am, what I need.

The night is where I am, what I need.

Smart Bodies

I breathe,

I am alive.

Superheroes know their weaknesses...

Like the way we love anyways.

You gave me lakes and trees;

You gave me cardigans;

You made me hook a frog with reverence for the circle of life;

You gave me Dad’s cookies,

You gave me pistachios, stale mints, marbles, sticks, the sky;

You gave me a hell of an entrepreneurial spirit;

You gave me the breath I breathe -

right now I breathe...

I breathe...

I breathe...

I am alive -

you gave me life.

You gave me -
and you rest in -

Gray Haven.

Forever I will keep your name...

forever your name will reign. 

We breathe 
we are alive,

Superheroes know their weaknesses...

Like the way we love.

We breathe,

we are alive.

We change

and save the world,

just like you...
Because
of you.

My favourite memories of Poppa consist of the moon shining above us on a calm Gunter lake, waiting for fish that may or may not come. We would sit on the water mostly in silence, with the exception of the moments when Poppa wasn't giving patient, simple responses to my girlish ramblings. I will always cherish those nights that taught me so much about life - learning with my Grandfather how to sit, how to do the work of waiting while also learning to accept it. Those nights helped cultivate my appreciation for the dark of night and see life there - lessons that have saved my life over and over again since. Those nights taught me to trust and just be in our natural, beautiful, awesome environment. They also taught me to calm my racing thoughts, and hear the small voice, like that of Poppas, lovingly easing my heart, and setting the example of how to be still, and know. Though we continue to need reminders of these lessons through the seasons of life, Poppa, thank you for the still, small voice. – Carolyn, when you were gone