soaked in awe

soaked in awe
note to self

look around right now
if you pause and notice
there’s a miracle nearby
the green-throated hummer
hovers, sipping nectar
a long, thirsty slurp—
clouds form and dissolve
—where do they go?
the doe and twin fawns
still sporting spots
bound over the fence then
stand, hooves raised, and stare—
closer in, you type words
they appear on the screen
a marvel of human ingenuity—
be soaked in awe

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

the bell

the bell
note to self

first it tolled my heart
thrummed my frame
called me to quiet—

shuffling sandals and
rustle of robes as monks
settle on seiza benches

facing the wall
a sustained silent sit
sound vibrates inside

my sense of me
meddlesome mind
gonging monastery bell

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

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

this urgent 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.

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
receives grace
one palm earthward
offers mercy to
our mangled 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.

let your sand settle

let your sand settle
note to self

it’s so easy to be
anxious, frightened
unnerved—you know
this, it’s your first
echo—qualm

let your sand settle
and the lake go still
notice what’s around you
it will slow your breath—
the fox laps from the bird
bath, hummers quarrel
nearby, their rich ruby
throats glinting the light

reframe your fright as
awe—let it reel you into
quiet—the spooked mare
gentles when you smooth
your palm on her neck
you can do this for yourself

—thank you to Rolf Gates for the title phrase

2022 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
Generic disclaimer: These are drafts—please understand that many will be rewritten.