Hour 19 :
Potholes-
a portal for insects to escape the politics
Under construction –
a place I would never call home
Exotic-
the trees that don’t just provide shade
Hiding from Myself
I want to write a poem
About how I feel
But it’s hard to explain
How hard it is
To be autistic and at the same time
Somewhat normal
And still be bisexual
Along with nonbinary
Add in being a birthmother
And all the things that come with
Mental health problems
It is difficult to say this to anyone
Especially myself
Bless the day I would learn to love new beginnings.
Bless the day I would learn to love new beginnings.
The day the thing in your body broke,
Someone with a strange face discovered the crack.
The day you broke, the day you discovered you were
The thing that broke, my then strong arm wasn’t strong
Enough to hold this darkness against the thing
Around your neck; this long chain of slavery.
When the days break, we would all bless the dawn
By forgetting all the wrong people that died with petals
In their mouth; bless them; bless their names—flowers.
I bless god for the strong bone of surviving another
Night but who do I tell I do not seek dawn that much?
Who do I tell to teach my tongue to bless this twin
Daughter cell of exit wounds; this twin daughter of dawn,
Who do I tell to pray for me?, that may this new dawn,
Wash me clean like prayers wash my mother’s feet—
Like silence, slowly shifting this cracking dawn into exile.
Ride
weightless.
Motion rising.
Lift off.
Heart racing.
smiles form.
Crying is heard.
Fun and scary.
Not for everyone.
Hour 24 – Mountain of Hope
Precariously trailing the crest of the mountain seeking relief in the canyon below darkness calling, caressing my sadness silence delivering a salve to my soul The mountain and I together embrace the ails of the world that won't mend love, respect, tolerance have been erased replaced by hatred, greed, disgrace... Suffering losses beyond measure the mountain has witnessed a lifetime of nature's abuse and lost treasure if human the suffering would be a crime Sadness swells and the earth starts to shudder tears from heaven fall upon my face a loud voice climbs up the canyon its sonorous notes the silence replaces Please do not lay down your sword fight for the land, the sky, the ocean, and all your trying alone gives us hope you must return home and answer the call
23~24
feeling his bones
through his
paper~thin skin
wound on his belly
a tumor i’m sure
deadly? ~who knows
so many worries
but for me, he eats
for me, he drinks
purring loudly
by my side
we drift off to sleep
as i stroke his still
silky light fur
ounces adding
on the scale
every time
i check
eyes still bright
the most beautiful blue
i’ve ever seen
we share so many slow~blinks
you’d never guess how wild he was
when he first found me
holding and snuggling him
wishing magic
into his medicines
we wait
we love
we hope
Hour Twenty-three: Alien Watch
We watched the alien aircraft
Watched them hovering above our world
Watched to see if we were welcoming
New friends who would walk
With us discovering our way
Together or
Would we welcome invading monsters
Coming to take, not give
They landed on the Shifting Sea
Where we sailed in my childhood
Digging beneath to gather the last
Coula that burrowed there and the last
Priri that bloomed
Did they know we’d killed our world
and were waiting for it to die?
Were they deities come to punish us
For our careless care what was given?
Or were they our
Salvation, shatra of legends
Who would show us how to make our world
Live again?
Jala held a handful of color
To shower them in gratitude
Berth hid the weapon inside
Close at hand, until we could
Know what awaited us
We watched
Poppies, shasta daisies & yarrow #24
I stood in a wind blown meadow
As poppies, shasta daisies
And yarrow
Played with the wind
Under a sky the colour
Of a million tonnes
Of Welsh slate
Feeling lost, beyond hope
When a gust caught me
Took my breath and reminded me
In a gasp
That where there is life
There really is hope
And the clouds opened
To turn their wrath upon my folly.
I stood, face upturned to the heavens
To greet the deluge
My black thoughts washed away
Alongside my mood
And smiled at the lesson
The flowers taught
To be is enough
To move with the wind is to play
And to receive nature’s gifts
Is something denied to none who still live
And for a moment
I swayed with the poppies,
Shasta daisies and yarrow
More free than I had ever been.
Menhir
She was cracked from cliffs of sandstone,
Took her shape from breaking blows
And shattered from her birthplace
They saw in her the flows
Of tides that bring the fishes
When rot has ruined the crops,
And welcome trade from distant shores
When sickness takes the ox;
They saw the streaking sunlight
As hailstorms flood the town,
They saw in her the breath of rain
When drought is beating down.
They saw in her the dancing
At new-built barrowsides,
They heard in her the singing
Under wind-torn turf new skies.
They raised her on a hilltop,
They daubed her painted length,
They gave her scented oils
And begged her for her strength.
They raised her in the knowing
That one day they’d be gone
But she would stand there steadfast,
That hope lives on.