Author: Christina's Words

“The darkness around us is deep.” ~ William Stafford

“Find Me When You’re Starting Over” by Nicole Marie

On By Christina's WordsIn Poetry7 Comments

I twisted into me
into knots and threads of darkened memory
like tree trunk rings or strips of film
of jagged time.

There are shards of light there
in those tied up corners
and those softened edges
of flesh and bone.

Hold me up to the sun
and study the maps
that run through my veins
they’re all places I have been.

The signs along the highway
have turned a jaded green
but I remain a brilliant
shade of transparent gold.

I can guide you at night
I can teach you
spread out on the hood of your car
one finger on some tiny destination.

I am a breathing mess of
sun down and sun up
of abandoned buildings
and new beginnings.

Find me when you’re starting over
I have been everywhere
I have grown rings
twisted into the depths of me.

“Find Me When You’re Starting Over” by Nicole Marie, originally posted at Words for the Weekend. Nicole Marie writes poetry and prose at her blog Words and Other Things.

 

“She Let Go” by Rev. Safire Rose

On By Christina's WordsIn Poetry, Spoken Word4 Comments

She let go. Without a thought or a word, she let go.

She let go of the fear.  She let go of the judgments.  She let go of the confluence of opinions swarming around her head.  She let go of the committee of indecision within her.  She let go of all the ‘right’ reasons. Wholly and completely, without hesitation or worry, she just let go.

She didn’t ask anyone for advice. She didn’t read a book on how to let go.  She didn’t search the scriptures. She just let go.  She let go of all of the memories that held her back.  She let go of all of the anxiety that kept her from moving forward.  She let go of the planning and all of the calculations about how to do it just right.

She didn’t promise to let go. She didn’t journal about it. She didn’t write the projected date in her Day-Timer. She made no public announcement and put no ad in the paper. She didn’t check the weather report or read her daily horoscope. She just let go.

She didn’t analyze whether she should let go. She didn’t call her friends to discuss the matter. She didn’t do a five-step Spiritual Mind Treatment. She didn’t call the prayer line. She didn’t utter one word. She just let go.

No one was around when it happened. There was no applause or congratulations. No one thanked her or praised her. No one noticed a thing. Like a leaf falling from a tree, she just let go.

There was no effort. There was no struggle. It wasn’t good and it wasn’t bad. It was what it was, and it is just that.

In the space of letting go, she let it all be. A small smile came over her face. A light breeze blew through her. And the sun and the moon shone forevermore.

~ Rev. Safire Rose, via Lightworkers World

“She Let Go” read by Michiko

 

“bluets” by Lora Mathis

On By Christina's WordsIn Poetry6 Comments

There is a poem
about forgiveness I have
been trying to write, but
don’t know how to. So instead
I talk about the wild blueberry
patch in my grandmother’s backyard.
How she spent
the summer in the country watering them,
picking them, making them into
jam. How she would hum softly under
her breath in French. How her
hands would brush over the berries
as gently as they outlined the heads of her children.

After her 81st birthday, the home was too much work
for her to maintain alone
so her son sold it to
a young couple who wanted to visit
the country on weekends. The night
she put the keys in the couples’ hands,
she fell asleep listening to soft French songs
and not humming along.

By the time she was 82, the blueberry patch
was overgrown; untended to, unloved.
She swore off blueberries for most of that Summer,
but one day in July,
she took the bus to the grocery store,
and bought three bushels of them.
That afternoon, she sang Ne Me Quitte Pas
loudly as she filled the counters with fresh-baked
blueberry pies. I found her at night with a slice in hand
and a smile on her face. She offered one to me as she said,
This is how to move on.
This is how you mourn what you loved
and forgive yourself for losing it.

— bluets, Lora Mathis

 

Find Lora on Twitter AND …. Check out Lora’s very first full-length book of poetry, The Women Widowed to Themselves, available now on Amazon.

The Women Widowed to Themselves by Lora Mathis
The Women Widowed to Themselves by Lora Mathis (click photo to view on Amazon)

 

PS- Lora is currently raising funds for a new computer, so if you love Lora’s work and would like Lora to help you with a poem or even send you a hand-written poem, check out the various ways you can help each other. (I do not know how long Lora will be offering these services, so if you read this in the archives later just know it is all subject to Lora’s discretion.) -Christy

“Shopping on a Saturday Afternoon” by Jennie Hope Meres

On By Christina's WordsIn Poetry10 Comments

They walk out of the store as I’m tossing groceries in my car
I never noticed before, I never looked before
I just never saw what I refused to be me before
And somehow I missed it
because I had it for a while; the sunny smile,
the hand in mine
I didn’t need to notice the other people at the store
As I watch them walk across the parking lot,
hand in hand –
I notice them now, I see them now;
her laughing at something said, him looking back
bringing their joined hands up to
her face to brush against her cheek,
pushing their grocery laden cart with the kids walking behind;
arguing as siblings do
For a minute I thought it was me and,
for a second,
I forgot to remember
that that only used to be me and I knew how it felt;
I knew how it felt to be that
And I looked around and realized I hadn’t noticed before,
or maybe
that I just refused to look before,
or
that I just didn’t see before
I just never saw that just wasn’t me anymore,
just a ghost of the me before
And I watched as they packed their bags in the car;
laughing and talking
And the kids clamoring for attention;
an impromptu tickle fight buckling them into the car
The children’s squeals of delight cut through me like a knife
Her laughing as she climbs smiling into the car
And for a minute I hate her,
for a second I want to warn her to take care
She just may not notice before,
maybe she just won’t see before
a ghost of the her before –
walking out from a store, catching her off guard
while tossing groceries in the car
Realizing in a minute, knowing in that second
that she never noticed before,
she never looked before
she just never saw what she refused to be her before
and somehow she missed it
and it just wasn’t her anymore

~ Jennie Hope Meres, via The Voices Project

“Caged Bird” by Maya Angelou

On By Christina's WordsIn Music, Poetry2 Comments
A free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wing
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.

 

But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.

 

The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.

 

The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn bright lawn
and he names the sky his own

 

But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.

 

The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.

 

Maya Angelou, “Caged Bird” from Shaker, Why Don’t You Sing? Copyright © 1983 by Maya Angelou

 

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“Someday Sparrow” by Laura Cantrell