in progress: the only language that matters

Orange peels

A wise woman tells me,
make space, new ideas will come

and so I try to identify
what I no longer need.

When the world is burning,
not somewhere else but here

and collectively we know that it will be a while
before this dark is over,

still, it is only a small shattering
and maybe the specific path does not matter

maybe orange peels in a pile in the sink
don’t have to mean anything

and maybe when it feels like we are
living in a circular world

with no doors
or answers,

when there is so much fire
everywhere

inside
and out

when forward motion
feels better –

we keep moving
as if action is the only language that matters

maybe the hardest part
is always allowing things to die.

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in process: speaking up, and teaching our daughters to do the same

Speak up

This is the thing I want to say:
when I was young
I never knew that there was
more than one path open to us,
that we could make the difficult choice
but I want you
to know it.

Sometimes I don’t know how to do
the thing that I have to do,
the thing that I have chosen.

Sometimes my
skin feels inside out
and my body like it is in 12
places at once.

Sometimes I try to tell someone
but I am behind glass.

No one can hear me.
No one can see my face
without a blur hiding its detail.

Lately I am a calm sea
quiet, with slow, constant motion
but no release.

The small waves
are lulling me into a trance
that will take me through
the long days of darkness
and winter and waiting

but this false calm
cannot last.

I am ready now
to show my
true face.

I am made of fire and earth
and they do not hide.

I look around and see
so many others still hiding

and I wonder why we keep
trying to exert ourselves
over things clearly
so much more
powerful than
we are.

In process 

The next phase
I sit back and watch as the unreal becomes real

Horrors become usual

And outrage begins to fade
Responsibility is not a negative

A dirty word

To be avoided
I am both here and not here

 

Grief makes it more real

And less

 

I don’t know what comes next

 

The moon was full last night

as we stepped out into the cold

 

This will be our last

Time seeing the moon

Over this particular field and hills

 

I mourn it

But I am ready

to move to the

next phase