Uncategorized

A Deeper Listening

January 16, 2022January 16, 2022 becomingandbeholding2 Comments

As a baby poet,

and a lover of writing,

the words that arrive

seemed to flow effortlessly

for a time.

When I dared to take those

first steps

that one day in a coffee shop,

and my love – after reading the results –

and to my surprise –

proclaimed me a poet,

I blossomed so fully

and beautifully

into joy and purpose.

I shined from the inside out,

blessed by having been seen.

This is what happens

when one is in the flow,

the wellsprings of artful expression.

But lately,

I find myself in the driest season of all.

This dehydration and loss of the words

has begun to hurt.

I feel it in the tightness of my voice –

a constipation in manifestation…

of engagement in my gifts.

So where did those waters of life go?

There is still a heart in me

that longs to speak.

There is still a soul

that seeks to inspire.

There is still a desire

to connect artfully

and with meaningful impact –

not out of a need for praise,

but of a soul-drive to be helpful –

to connect to our common humanity.

But here I am.

Thirsty for the words

and waiting to be quenched

by the flow

which glows through me.

It has been a season

of healing and grief for me.

There has been a deep dive

into all the embodied pain

I have been carrying –

lugging around through life

unwittingly.

The drag of it all

has finally caught up with me.

I have been brought to my knees

to find a profound humility.

Now that I am getting back on my feet again,

and on sacred ground,

feeling healed and graced

with a deeper listening to life,

I sense the presence of inspiration again.

She whispers softly,

but with an urgency

that deepens my attention.

So the words are starting to spring forth gently.

I know I must share them –

for I know they are needed

for the many who thirst longingly

just like me.

My heart begins to pour them out

as I enter the flow

once again.

I Miss Your Face

May 19, 2020May 19, 2020 becomingandbeholding10 Comments

At least I can see your eyes –

even though they look sad and tired.

Your shoulders, too, are not the same.

They are rounded.

Perhaps an unnamed shame is weighing you down…

or maybe grief.

There is good reason for grief.

You stand at an awkward distance

as if a cloud of contagion was

surrounding me

like Pig Pen’s dust.

I feel embarrassed somehow

by the invisible cloud.

I mean you no harm, of course.

Your eyes dodge mine, anyway.

The disconnect between us,

is strange –

its wordless noise brings

a haunting isolation.

The masks have swallowed our voices.

I hope one day to see your smile…

Your dependable dimples

could always brighten my day.

But now all I see is the barrier

we all have to wear.

I miss your face.

$woman-with-face-mask-and-latex-gloves-holding-a-shopping-bag-4226269$

Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

First Draft

April 10, 2020April 10, 2020 becomingandbeholding1 Comment

This is not a good poem.

I can’t seem to find my voice –

It is missing among the tangle

in my heart.

I keep digging in the bramble

and coming up empty.

I invite her back

and tell her I miss her soothing tones

which lift and heal.

I miss her guidance.

I know this is an important time –

a time when the losses are dramatic and scary

and a deeper knowing

is required.

I have been preparing for this moment

as have you.

Life has brought us here together.

We have certainly hit the brambles before.

And we have made it through…

But this time I find myself speechless.

The brambles are thick and unrelenting,

paralyzing expression.

It seems a moment

when words cannot dare to speak

what the heart cannot sort

or feel.

It is a time

to nurture the silence.

It needs space right now.

The words can rest

until they know what to say.

Covid 19 Pandemic

Poem · Poetry · Uncategorized

Word Provider

November 14, 2018 becomingandbeholding8 Comments

Often when I sit to write,

the decision is spontaneous.

I may be in my usual routine,

and then the urge bubbles up.

A thought comes…

Maybe I will write.

Then I simply position my fingers on the keyboard

and out it flows.

My head, heart, and fingers

are connected to that larger reality

that usually slips through the fingers.

It is an act of faith –

to put myself in the position

to be available

and receive.

I trust the words will come.

And when they do,

I am one with Inspiration

and being

me.

Poem · Poetry

Singing a New Song

October 15, 2017October 15, 2017 becomingandbeholding1 Comment

Not sure how it happened

whether it was gradual

or sudden.

I wish I could remember

the moment it all changed –

when my voice no longer matched

the person that I am.

Suddenly,

it hurt to speak –

not only physically,

but existentially.

It has been a painful five years.

Do you know what it is like

to hate the sound of your own voice?

To feel the inward disdain

and embarrassment?

To see the expressions of others change

when you dare to speak?

To bravely express yourself despite it all

and then to feel the pain of faulty speech patterns?

It has a way of shutting a person up,

holding you back.

But now I have hope again,

hope of a voice that sings effortlessly,

a voice that is a joy to listen to,

lilting and silky,

warm and welcoming –

powerful in its message and impact,

comforting and present.

I have hope of healing

the incongruence

of who I am and how I sound.

You see,

I have all this love in my heart

and a soul that needs expression.

Now that I am getting real help with my voice problem,

my whole life is opening up

to what I can be and do

as a beneficial presence for others.

Let the healing commence.

I am in!