Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘trust’

On a Clear Day


The way the field holds
   the shadow of the cottonwood,
      this is how life holds me.
 
Holds me, no matter my shape.
   Holds me with no effort.
      Holds my darkness and knows it
 
as weightless, as transient,
   as something that will shift,
      disappear, return, and shift again.
 
It never says no to me.
   I am still learning to trust life, to trust
      no matter how I show up, I will be held.
 
Trust that my life is not a problem.
   Trust that as much as I am the shadow,
      I am also the field.

Read Full Post »

On the Upward Swing




Barely a waning crescent,
the moon still shares enough light
to travel over two-hundred thousand miles
in less than two seconds.
It shines through the bedroom window,
its glow an ephemeral silver quilt.
It takes only the slenderest curve
to remind me the shape
of the whole. It takes only the barest
suggestion to know the enormity
of what is missing. Thank you
for these small proofs.
It takes so little momentum
to swing the pendulum
toward trust.

Read Full Post »


 
 
Somehow the body knows what it needs.
Like how, minutes after the change of the year,
I find myself in the hot shower washing off
the old year’s skin with a violet sugar scrub.
I didn’t plan to scrape away the self
that no longer fits, but here I am,
sharp crystals in hand, my everywhere
feeling the tingle, the thrilling sting of the new.
What magic a simple ritual can do.
Can’t change the losses, no,
but I feel surprisingly willing to meet it all
as I step lighter, softer, back into the world.

Read Full Post »



 
I don’t know how it is
that before I even open my eyes,
I feel it in my blood—
the small measure of light
that will arrive today.
I marvel how trust in the light
is as powerful
as the light itself.
By the time dawn comes,
already, I am glowing.
 

Read Full Post »




Now since I’ve tasted trust in life
why would I ever
slip again into armor?
The armor of an insincere smile
sometimes as dangerous
as the armor of a sword.
Why would I ever try to know
what to say, how to act,
how to plan, when,
with zero effort of my own,
life itself will move through me,
will rise up in me to meet itself?
Of course, like the child I am,
I forget this trust.
I slip back into habit,
believe I need protection,
fear I am isolated.

But I have fallen in love with life
at a time when that might seem impossible,
and this strange fact alone
seems enough to remind me
to ditch the armor,
to cast wide my arms,
to unsheath my heart
and say yes, life,
I trust you, I serve you.
Why would I not trust life?
It would be like a seed
evading the rain,
like a sunflower
just unfurling
trying to avoid the sun.

Read Full Post »

Trust

 
It’s the wing inside the empty room,
the wing inside the shiver,
the sprightly wing inside the ash,
the wing inside the lover.
The wing inside of silence
before the impossible words.
The wing that flutters moonlessly.
The wings inside the shards.
And a thousand thousand tiny wings
flutter inside each breath—
and I forget the wings are here,
until I meet an edge—

Read Full Post »




I wish you the peace of sleep,
your breath a canoe
that carries you
toward the next moment
without any need
for you to touch the oars.
How easily you arrive.

Oh, to trust the world like that—
trust you will be carried,
not just in sleep,
but in waking dreams,
trust no matter how high the waves,
the skiff of grace
has a seat for you.
And oh, to let go of the oars—
there is no steering
toward what comes next.

Read Full Post »

A Tale of Two

 

            for C

 

 

I want

to hear

you, but

when you

shout, I

shut my

heart’s door,

lock my

ears. Now,

after two

loud days

shouting back

in lines

I’m glad

I never

sent, at

last I

find enough

quiet

to hear

you, but

not enough

trust to

give you

the key

 

Read Full Post »

 

 

 

And maybe

though there

is no floor

you find

the grace

in falling—

after all

those years

of baby

steps, with

one plunge

you’re

evolving

Read Full Post »

The Big Lesson

 

The big lesson is in not having a platform to land on. —Joi Sharp

 

 

Pulling out

the rug

from under

my feet

then another

rug, then

another, only

to find

beneath

the rugs

no floor.

Read Full Post »

Older Posts »

%d bloggers like this: