I wrote this poem just weeks into the quarantine and isolation forced by the global pandemic. Now as we move into the stages of “languishing” and “pandemic senioritis” the need for these words of recognition and blessing remain. Oh to be a child again To have lap to crawl into when the world overwhelms ToContinue reading “Blessed be the Holders”
In the unveiling–
we are awakened, repentant, humbled
You move into discomfort
You hold longer than you think you can
Our days have held gifts and griefs
For those anxious about the future-
May peace abound
Is it Wednesday?
Who is making dinner?
The past few weeks have been a battle of the “shoulds.” I’m experiencing the cultural pressure to be productive, to launch some creative project, to lose ten pounds, to mother with color-coded charts, theme days, crafts, and made-from-scratch meals, and above all to be grateful.
When what is ordinary no longer is
we gather words
in hope we clutch them,
Who holds it when it’s all so heavy?
For the open expanse of day that lies ahead…