Wild Heart

I am a fan of Jeanette LeBlanc's writing classes. The writings here were generated from one of her many prompts. 

A Night on Fire

Fire

Some nights run on forever, fire pulsing. The mind tries to swallow us whole. Last night was one of those nights. Below are the bits of poetry running me round and round. Note, I am not a danger to myself. Suicide is not an option. I saw and felt it with my son. I won't repeat the pattern. So, I journey through the pain of loss and love and trying to find my place in the world.

Alone again
like always
forever
never quite connecting
can't get comfortable
feel like the misfit
the square that doesn't fit
with the circles
or is it the other way around

Poetry
Wisdom
Wild Heart
Grief, Death and Dying

This is about me

Tiny pieces

Content warning: swear words

This is not about you
this is not about being mean to you
this is not about not loving you
this is not about wanting a man-bun
this is about me
this is about me crashing
this is about the past
rearing its ugly head
and dominating my world

Poetry
Wild Heart

Being Tender With Myself

Taking my time
Allowing the tears
Not pushing too hard
Simple walks outside
no big agenda
simply being present
Watching out the window
still or windy
birds flying by
clouds floating 
or filling the sky
taking it all in
Taking forward steps
but small gentle ones
no guilt included
Surrendering to what I need
right here, right now
a handful of chocolate chips
a glass of wine
asking to be held
letting the tears slip out
snuggled in a big blanket

Poetry
Wild Heart
Grief, Death and Dying

Home

Home
in my husband's arms
curled against his back
holding his hand
my anchor 
Home
curled up on the sofa
wrapped in a warm blanket 
glass of wine nearby
Home
time with my daughter
laughing and sharing our lives
the connection
that spans the miles
Home
door closed
my personal space
sinking into my deepest self
allowing words to flow
Home
used to be talking with my mom
plotting garden ideas
or discussing family and life
that piece is fluttering

Poetry
Wild Heart

Living Questions

Living questions
they are like 
agreeing to disagree
those questions
with no answers
you decide to let lie
Why?
Why did he do it?
How?
How did we get there?
Could I have anything differently?
Which thing?
Why did they hate me so much
as to want to destroy my career?
Where did this stone originate?
Why do I feel unworthy,
at times?
How do I heal this pain
in my heart and soul?
What is the secret
to a life well lived?
How do I impart my knowing

Poetry
Wild Heart

You Are Beautiful

Image of a puppy

Hey You!
Yes, You!
Has anyone told you lately
how beautiful you are
how the light shines
just so through your eyes
how your smile
lights up the room
how your presence
makes us feel safe
like everything 
is going to be okay
You are perfect
just the way you are
you don't need some
new beauty regimen
or a big exercise program
you just need to be you
love yourself
like you love others
put down the hammer
and pick up the feather
gently stroke your cheek

Poetry
Social/Spiritual
Wild Heart

Where Do I Go When I Need To Get Away? What Does It Mean To Come Home?

Some days I love the idea of escape. Just run off and leave all the complicated stuff behind. Don't look back and keep on moving. I tried taking off for a day a couple times, years ago. I found when I got to the beach, I couldn't sit still. It didn't solve any of the problems I was trying to run away from. I quit trying to escape.

What Have I Rebuilt?

I sit in vigil
as my Mom 
lies in the next room
waiting for death
to carry her away
from her failing body
Two and a half years ago
I sat with family
as we set my son's remains
deep into the earth
it has been a period
of deep grieving
and swift change
within our family
What have I rebuilt?
After my son's death
I took a deep dive
into the depths of my soul
looking for clues
feeling the misery
of failed parenting
lack in building a man
who could survive

Poetry
Wild Heart
Grief, Death and Dying

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