the key
slow to learn
I searched in things
and those I knew
for this crux, this clue
until one day
I turned around
and found
the code inside
the key matched
a slot in my heart,
and when I slipped it in
like an arrow nocked
to its bow, it fit—
my task remained
allow trust
the turn
to open me
2023 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.
bell
I invite the bell
again and again—
toll me awake!
I envision a belltower
a resonant bell
a prayer of sorts,
although what
could I ever pray to?
I launch prayers
into the void
chock full of
knowing and love—
the bell resounds,
sonorous
the echo reminding
I’m already home
2023 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.
compass
it takes a deeper quiet
essential for my life
to find my inner compass
the one that won’t delude
but it’s not enough to spot it
I must decode its guidance
listen to its wisdom
then respond
there’s the rub
it’s ruthless in its pointing
I was not misled
to think it would be easy
that pledge was never made—
it stripped away defenses
allowed me my mistakes
but there’s a grace
I must concede—
like a border collie
nipping at my heels
it drove me always
toward what’s true
2023 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.
uncertainty
our days are filled
with uncertainty
that’s the edge
for all of us
we just don’t know
the sun seems
to rise every day
but, scientists say
one morning it won’t
big trouble
I doubt
we’ll be here by then
we’re successfully
killing ourselves off
but I don’t know
marvels happen
every day
the next baby born
might save our world
cool the fever
of rising degrees
but who will be left?
sun-loving creatures
the meerkats?
the hippos?
this is for sure
after we’re gone
knowing will shine
blazing awake
and aware
2023 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.
entanglement
ablaze with gaudy
aloe vera, their
bright sherbet flowers
asking hummingbirds
to sip—over the decade
one plant became ten
behind, an outburst
of iris, delicate and fancy
stand in dawn’s light
begging for bees
we’re all entangled
needing each other
a delicate balance
that calls for repair
none stands alone
independent of others
plants and animals know
without knowing—
it’s coded within
bury an acorn here
another there
squirrels sow forests
without thinking
thinking’s the problem
root cause of the trouble
if I presume myself
separate
then I am—the cosmos
reflects comprehension
instead
let’s celebrate the tangle
that weaves us together
honor the kinship
that binds
2023 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.
stop thinking
I think 99 times and find nothing. I stop thinking, swim in silence,
and the truth comes to me. —Albert Einstein
I can’t “stop” thinking
the mind just runs
a banal and ceaseless train
yet I can slip beneath,
dive into bracing light
thoughts will play up top
I let them romp
once beneath
viewpoint fades—
such reprieve!
I rest in that light’s sling
sway in solitude and be,
just be
restored, refilled
with streaks of inspiration
I drift back up
accede to thought again
2023 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.
huge silence
There is a huge silence within each of us, beckoning
us back into itself. —attributed to Meister Eckhart
it’s always there
waiting to be noticed
the fathomless well
calling me inward
into the heart
of the heart
I swim down
deeper
find silence’s support
how it buoys
how it thirsts,
welcoming
those who remember—
held by the depth
thankful, I bow
2023 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.
enter at your own risk
did we agree
to slip into this world
wet with fluids of love?
it’s not safe, this plane—
all will be taken back
in time
in time, the one marvel
divided into many
that can sense
the interplay, though
the price we must pay
is our leaving
leaving what or where?
it’s all here—
the one become many
become one
the eternal parade
of change
change is the given
no point resisting
let’s rest in its river,
the pull of unknown,
give it up, let it go
float back home
2023 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.
sponge hole heart sutra
I wring soapy water
from the sponge
struck
by the marvel of holes
how sponge soaks
up nectar or goop or juice
and holds it in hollows
suspended
and worms bore tunnels
in loam so aliment and air
percolate—without openings
soil will die
hearts require hollows,
chambers like sponge
so they can fill
and squeeze and fill again
which carries me directly
to the shoreless shore
sponge—emptiness
sponge—form
2023 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.
dissolve the shackle
Lay a little heat on your spiritual life
—Father Ron Rolheister
you aware when
when you see through
through this earthly life
to something deeper—
it’s on you
to make the turn
beyond the bustle
and the rumpus
to where it’s still
—rest there
explore the land
not with your feet
probe knowing instead
be thorough
lay a little heat
use intention
open your eyes
to the quarter-inch hail
pelting outside—
that, too
2023 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.
the heart of the matter 