Showing posts with label let go. Show all posts
Showing posts with label let go. Show all posts

Saturday, December 16, 2023

Featherweight



When the strength you need

becomes all of the strength

you've given...

When unexpected loss

Takes your breath away

too...


When you balance 

All of your own weight

on your own 

two feet

without feeling

push or pull...


Flight may occur


When your vision is blurred

from speed, you see,

Direction is irrelevant

to destination.


When arrival is relative

to departure

and landing is only

One stop

of many...


It starts to feel 

Easier to open 

Both arms, wings 

and just soar...


A rough legged hawk soars over Seedskadee NWR, looking for its next meal. Photo Credit: Tom Koerner/USFWS via Wikimedia Commons.

Thursday, September 30, 2021

Rubber band(ages)



Tensing, pulling, readiness, and resistance

as much as we can 

gather

before     -SNAP-

to hold a purpose 

no more 

holding together

Just

when life recoils, takes cover

inside

and becomes slack

limp before

taut

all comes back 

to holding on-

to Nothing

tight.


Photo credit by Oroo, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.

Friday, October 18, 2019

Pace


Around the mountain
The way to proceed sideways
Looking at the rocks.
*
Loosen the rein
the heavens unlock in gasp
exhaling hail.
*
Each step taken
is a charge
without receipt.
*
Certain of what we
do not want and cannot take
our bags bulge with These.
*
Lighten with laughter
Serum of Sun, what is done
is never complete.



Artist Unknown, 'Pavillions in a mountain landscape' c. 1550 in the Philadelphia Museum of Art [Public domain].

Saturday, June 8, 2019

Mantra(s)


(1)
Put this is your mouth
tasting this flavor of thought
smell the breath with in.

(2)
Lingering outside
you choose the notes to pick up
and savor the sounds.

(3)
Prove you can jump in
and out of the echoes left
in the chorus line(s).

(4)
Get inside between
and stretch as much as
you can momentarily.

Painting by Thomas Eakins [Public domain].



Friday, September 7, 2018

Lock jaw


Her too young jaw locks 
And she becomes her father
In this tic, to clench and wrestle
Her heavy breathing seems
Reminiscent of the little girl 
Not letting go
Of her bottle
For one second
Chance to make it without…

She gags at the mention
Of breakfast
Quite suddenly,
She says she is repulsed
And it may be
Because it reminds her
Of those café's and
Scattered mornings 
Here and there 
With her distant father.
He makes her stomach churn 
She says, she thinks she never needs
Breakfast again

It wasn't me, it wasn't 
Him, it was the way it started
To get tough
To hold on
To promises 
That are hard to swallow.

She learned about nourishment,
and its ultimate
End.
Nurture does not provide enough
For closed lips. Empty rooms, 
Empty calories, empty pockets 
Never kept us alive.
She is learning that it is more 
Fruitful to say, than for 
Him to hear.
Standing here and listening
Through the cracks,
I see narrow bands of light seeping out.

Forgiveness will be the only key
That opens her too young lockjaw
Allowing the Light its fitting
Liberty. 



Painting by Albert Edelfelt, 'At the door' 1901 in [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Thursday, May 18, 2017

A handle on things


Of course her hands would eventually
Change, I accept the adaptation
And know I must let go of the little one.

Trading the paper and the pencil, manual
We labor, we trade and I watch
The same ring on me, though this one
Is rose gold-
And I cannot demagnetize my eyes or
tear them away from her new woman hands.

It is
The way she holds the pencil
The way she hovers over the white page
The way she hopes it will be good
I am confident

She is in good hands. 


Painting by Marie Bashkirtseff (1881) in [Public domain, Public domain or CC0], via Wikimedia Commons.

Wednesday, March 1, 2017

What a Strange Trip we Spin


When we can finally
Let Go
we should hold onto that.
Forever young is not aging wisely.

No gain, less pain;
less risk, no reward.
In fact, 9 out of 10 persons,
in their final hour,
utter
Should & Late
now knowing it could come early.
Anyhow
on the seventh cloud,
in the ninth ward of heaven,
I see clusters of humanity acting civilized,
some are sleeping, some seem to be
searching around,
feeling nothing and gasping

for nothing they found
was there.
Ten out of ten,
just held on too long.
Painting By William Paxton (http://www.taller54.com/736.htm) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.


Friday, December 2, 2016

The rise of casuality


Because we are the effects, not the primes
as in Primates,
we are moved,
as in affected.

Because we breed
maladies and machinations
we create
as in Creatures
more than was there before Us, 
as in BC (Blind Carbon).

We infer our differences 
in grand designs and poor planning
or preferences and likenesses
as reflections of self-expression
and omit the other view
to simplify.

Why do we need to know
Why
as though living without question
helps with this affliction of mortality
or enlightens eternity...

Shall we give up and let it go, as though
we influence more than our mind 
-do not answer that-
Instead, let's suppose 
the conclusion 
need only a new name 
or learned skill for our adaptable
immutable
Fin de siècle
or inability to sit
still...

We move On
and are moved ever more,
for even though in an odd way
the Word made it the first 
to day. 



Image credit By Strobridge Litho. Co., Cincinnati & New York [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Thursday, November 24, 2016

To Rise Above


To Rise Above
does not challenge
volume of voice;
Rather, 
to Rise
we must become
light-er.

Start by letting go
of what was never able
or willing to support your weight-
in words;
it may be all ready 
too late
to try to fly
on your own.

Up or down, to fall or float
dares us to face that timid demon;
in doing so, we learn 
a bit about freedom-
not of choice or right, 
as in 'Fight or Flight',
but to maintain and conserve
the quiet right 
to let go.

And move on,
to knowing
there is much more
than time
to exist and resist
changes 
of the heart.

Painting by Anne-Louis Girodet de Roussy-Trioson (1802) in [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Sunday, August 14, 2016

Catch & Release


You may have caught my gaze,
strangling my breath
by the gauge of your twisted line.
A casualty,
in a swoop of wind
disturbing the flow-
now you will let me go
for sport.
Remind me of the rules
once more,
since participation is voluntary
and mine has been cut short.
Spar and span, pick your sport,
there will always be one better.





Painting by Winslow Homer [Public domain], Fishin (1879) via Wikimedia Commons.

Wednesday, November 18, 2015

A Skybroom or Windwisk


Where there is wind
Why not-
Fill the air with nothing
but conflicting directions?
Roar with static,
bumping jabs of hot-cold
thrust through if it must
as though it is nothing but
A natural occurrence.
A nuisance. Non-sense
of white noise, endless sighs
of discontent, lamenting
leaves fray like nerves.
Shooting blanks, synapses short
fireback with backfeed too high.
Determined to go Nowhere,
Now with haphazard intents,
mischief is made,
trepidation is mistaken as
raw with ennui.

There it all goes...
This too shall pass...
Giving the barbaric wind
a safe place to play,
with words like To and Fro
and don't forget, Let Go-
Blowing away
my uprooted mind
freed from knowing
how heavy
we should have been
bolted down.



Image of painting by John William Waterhouse [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

And then...

  Change is like that strong smell of cut grass or chopped wood that stops you still. Patterns, a symbol can be an illegible sign,  at first...