all you can do
note to self
nothing’s “under control”
you may think it is, but
it’s a wild mess, wholly
pandemonium,
all happening, happening
redolent and rampant
spilling out in endless
variety—us included—
and brought into play
so relax.
there’s no stopping it
squalling newborn
assault rifles for sale
your first, tentative kiss
tender lips caress yours
friend’s death diagnosis,
and then your own,
sunrise aflame—apricot on cobalt,
sour milk and moldy tortillas,
puppy snoring in your lap
all of it, erupting at once
relax.
forget the mind
the craving to name,
to nail down something,
anything, and
give it meaning.
troublesome thoughts—
oh, suffering ensues,
that’s guaranteed.
meet it, whatever it is,
not slantwise, straight on
and relax
2022 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—they may never turn into anything more or they might flower.
WOW. Deep. Requires several readings (for me, that is).
I’ll visit your interesting site to read (and to learn from) your challenging poetry.
(I have been reading Emily Gibson’s blog for years and notice your ‘likes’ and comments.)
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Thank you, Alice (I’m guessing!) for commenting! Yes, although my spiritual practice is not Christian, I deeply appreciate Emily’s blog
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That sent before I meant it to!
With love,
Amrita
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