wayfarer

wayfarer
note to self

you’ve never walked
the Camino, but your
marrow knows the
journey—
one patient step
and then another
into recognition
you are pilgrim and
wayfarer of what’s
hidden in plain sight—
no trekking necessary
but stamina is required

2022 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.

this wild heart

this wild heart
note to self

your wild heart
calls wrensong and
owlsong to erupt inside
carve craters of awe

this wild heart wants
your very core to open
so wide, lilac wisteria
pours from its gate

the wildest heart sees
your perfection, this
you-ness, a unique and
tender revelation

your wild heart cries out
to speak, begs to be
heard and seen and met
and blazes with gratitude
oh, this wild heart

2022 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.

deep water is safest

deep water is safest
note to self

your sailor friend vowed
deep water is safest—
illogical for a landlocked
midwestern girl who
yearns to cling to shore

all that’s uncharted in
the salty abyss makes you
uneasy—bottom feeders
things with pincers
tails that sting
giants with razor teeth—
you quiver at the thought
of who is gliding under you

but what about trust?

2022 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.

the Dervish turn

the Dervish turn
1999
note to self

I settle my sikke
firmly on my head
pray it will not fall off

bow to the Sheikh
raise my wings
one palm skyward
accepting grace
one palm earthward
offering mercy to
our mutilated world
turn, turn, and turn
until everything vanishes

there is music
I do not hear it
silence settles inside

2022 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.

a pierced heart

a pierced heart
note to self

your heart is pierced
in myriad ways—
fox kits tumble in the
field, hummers sip
the columbine, you
cuddle a dying friend

be pierced by silence
amazed by the clear
light of knowing—
expect miracles and
see them everywhere
do not fear it, for
a pierced heart lets
the light pour out and in

2022 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.

belonging

belonging
note to self

you do not recognize
how you belong—
you feel inelegant
awkward and other

until one day
it becomes clear
your belonging
lives in kinship
with what is—

each time you
remember this
the mind, for
an enticing flash
goes still

2022 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.

silence blessing us

silence blessing us
note to self

it’s always here—
in the midst of
raucous music
or rumination
skeet range or
forest grove—
silence blessing us

it’s underneath
behind, or prior—
no word points in
the right direction
it’s unfindable
and ever-present

thank you to Rebecca Evert for the title phrase

2022 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.

fall into astonishment

fall into astonishment
note to self

as you age into an
old woman, bowed
with wizened skin
and spiky hair, the
path ahead divides—
you can sink toward
despair or fall into
astonishment

choose awe!
notice it far and near
your son’s wild curls
lined a raven’s nest
soft for the baby birds
a dule of doves
mill the soil for seed
the mare knows to
lick her newborn foal—

marvels everywhere

2022 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.

unbound

unbound
note to self

you are bound
to this earth
no doubt, but
there is a way
to untether—
gain quiet insight
from dismantling
and unlearning
the strange way
you were taught
to frame reality

you were coached
and molded to
amplify beliefs and
stories on top of
what actually
transpires—the
how and why
instead of a
clearer what—

peel them off
return to vivid truth
what happened?
instead of inviting
drama, meet and
welcome the feelings
—nothing more

2022 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.