fault lines
note to self
brush by delicate brush
a painstaking excavator
I uncover the skeleton
of what he did—I was
only four years old
that’s faraway past
yet it carved fault lines
in who I might become
cautious instead of creative
every touch leaves signs—
elephants snap limbs
monks arouse hearts
with their clarity
soldiers blast cities to rubble
ants stumble while hefting
a giant crumb—each
singular action shifts
the bones of our world
pick petals from the daisy
it matters, it doesn’t matter
it matters, it doesn’t
both are holy true—
meet the long ago
metabolize and mend
admire fault lines everywhere
trace with care and gold
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.
the heart of the matter 
Wow, you’re doing it…addressing that which has needed to be addressed for a long time. You spoke of this after Ren’s recent reading. Courageous you, and in such beautiful language that you touched my heart. I hope it helps with your healing. Loves, Lanettey ❤️
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I’m doing fine, Lanettey, thank you! I’ve done so much work, and it’s paid off.
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Absolutely beautiful and true! Thank you! I am deeply enjoying your poetry. Thank you for sharing your heart 💜❤️
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Thanks Annie! I love when people comment. Yes, for these poems, I have to dig deep. That’s my promise to myself.
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Profound. This really moves me – a deep bow to you dear Amrita. ❤
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Thank you, Louisa! A deep bow in return. I miss being in more regular contact.
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