Category: memoir

the first birth

On By Amrita Skye BlaineIn Awakening, awe, beauty, children, dogs, emotion, family, fear, feelings, joy, memoir, memory, Musings, Poetry8 Comments

the first birth

age nine

our fat black Lab
panting, pacing
finally she flops
in the wooden box
my father built
and mom lined
with old towels
look, she says
watch her belly
see it ripple?

I kneel down
breathless, amazed
my throat so dry
at the vast unknown
Ebony opens back there
widens, I see something
moist, glistening
then she bears down
with a groan
and it’s out

she turns to it
nosing, licking
a tiny face appears
from the glassy sac
its blunt nose
smushed-tight eyes
and folded ears
a teeny squeak
and the puppy moves—
clapping and hooting
from outside the pen

my big brother
gives a hard shove
for space at the wire
not this time
I push back—my spot!
let her be, mom says
she’s the doggie one
for once he obeys
and it all starts again

2024 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.

bursts and squalls

On By Amrita Skye BlaineIn Awakening, awe, Daily reminders, home, memoir, Musings, Poetry2 Comments

bursts and squalls

drops
in the downspout
then a steady pattering
soothes me
so hard to rise in rain

my body yearns
to be snug
in my duvet’s
womb, drop off,
drift in early
morning dreams,
but rhythm
is my ground,
what frames my day

chilly air
two feet on the floor
muffled furnace roar
I reach for slippers
and fleece-lined shirt
head to my desk to write

words like rain
start, stop,
start again
slide down the page
in little bursts and squalls
echoing outside

2023 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.

lost

On By Amrita Skye BlaineIn Awakening, awe, children, Daily reminders, dogs, grief, heart, home, memoir, memory, Musings, Non-duality, nonduality, notes from self, suffering2 Comments

lost

It is a joy to be hidden but disaster not to be found.
—Donald Winnicott, child psychologist

overlooked, not seen
a twisting
for the mystic dreamer
the inward child

as she grew older,
portrayed as wrong
made light of,
misdirected—
no welcome
in this constellation

she wanted
to remake herself
but her offerings
were not good enough
dismissed

best friend, the family dog
she hid herself away
found her cathedral
in the woods
and waited for her time

2023 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.

uncertainty

On By Amrita Skye BlaineIn Daily reminders, fear, feelings, grief, memoir, mind, Musings, Non-duality, nonduality, notes from self, Poetry, spirituality, suffering, Surrender, TruthLeave a comment

uncertainty

It could happen any time, tornado, earthquake,
Armageddon. It could happen. —William Stafford

it threads though,
this puzzle
how do I live
bewildered, afraid

if I take a next step,
will the ground
support or
is freefall the way?

my instinct,
to carry this load
as though it’s my freight
but the weight
takes me down

the dilemma,
bearing witness
abide
without drowning

2023 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.

recognition

On By Amrita Skye BlaineIn Awakening, awe, beauty, Daily reminders, emotion, feelings, gratitude, heart, home, joy, Love, memoir, Musings, Non-duality, nonduality, notes from self, Poetry, Silence, Surrender6 Comments

recognition

This that passes between us /without our knowing how, /this unbearable recognition, /makes life worth the trouble. —Elias Amidon

when I met your heart
my own shattered open
ecstasy and terror
in equal measure
life change
that much I knew

the terror,
no more shutting down
could I meet the call?
the ecstasy,
this unbearable recognition

torn open
in an unintended moment
the rivers of our lives
had been streaming
toward each other, pulled
by a necessary gravity

that August day
we walked
silently
nothing to be said
that would come later
yet the ripples of our silence
nearly swamped me

when my mind cried
no good at this
you’ve failed too many times
my heart responded
be still
you’ve done the work
you are ready now

thirty-five years later,
we still walk side-by-side

2023 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.

multitasking

On By Amrita Skye BlaineIn Awakening, awe, beauty, Daily reminders, gratitude, kindness, memoir, memory, Musings, Non-duality, nonduality, notes from self, Poetry, retreat, spirituality, Surrender4 Comments

multitasking

doesn’t exist, not for me
one task at a time,
or flipping
between
focused on neither—
this current first-world
mania showed up
mid-twentieth century,
coined for computers

the flow of hot water
over a dinner plate
watching light play
on soap bubbles,
sponging until clean
settling it in the drainer
reaching for the next
washing off smudges
fitting it beside its sister

at the Abbey, assigned
to cleanup
scraping rice from a pan
to save for tomorrow’s lunch
I left a few grains
look—she smiled,
her robe swishing,
shining shaved head
as she turned to face me
let’s not leave them behind
a statement, no shame
she pointed
there, still a few more
twenty years
and I hear her soft voice
each time I put
leftovers away

one task at a time
the common, everyday
sacred
with attention and touch

2023 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.

way of the heart

On By Amrita Skye BlaineIn Awakening, children, chilla/test, Daily reminders, heart, Love, memoir, mind, Musings, notes from self, paradox, parenting, Poetry2 Comments

way of the heart

Grandfather says, When you feel powerless, that’s because you’ve stopped listening
to your own heart; that’s where power comes from. —Gianni Crow

I learned this lesson
in surgical waiting rooms
sitting on hard plastic chairs
if I didn’t listen
to my own heart first,
more than powerless
I would lose the sheltering
power of motherly love
to hold
and heal my tiny son

surgeons preferred
I stay in my mind
easier for them—
my anguish
kindled their hearts
unbearable
in their chosen work,
and yet
they entered it
because they cared
their grievous paradox

it could not be otherwise
and I could not save them
I chose to root
in that tenderest place
they scrambled
to shut
difficult conversations
I will never regret—
the path of the heart
my way

2023 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.

sculpture of emotion

On By Amrita Skye BlaineIn Awakening, awe, body, emotion, feelings, grief, light, Love, memoir, notes from self, Poetry, prayer, sufferingLeave a comment

sculpture of emotion

pure art
this figure made
from who I am
hewed and fashioned
from found bits
shards of metal
stone-sharpened,
washed smooth
by waterfalls of weeping
torrents
cascading off the edge

Möbius strip
on the inside, blood
warm, alive and calling
don’t solidify
pour, pour out
from your raw core
this strength to cry
through sand and wire
it must drain

mind carefully now
don’t harm the tenders
drenched with tears
gather close
offer sunlight
love, yes,

2023 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.

Artemis

On By Amrita Skye BlaineIn Awakening, awe, Daily reminders, gratitude, heart, home, memoir, Musings, nature, notes from self, PoetryLeave a comment

Artemis

she’s relaxed yet alert
stance rooted
in her domain as
huntress, protector
she nocks an arrow
on the string
readying to fly—

auburn hair braided
silver eyes flashing
a fawn stands
at her knee
limned by moonlight
soft ears swiveling
at rustles and snaps

goddess and fawn
standing by my side
stalwart and innocent,
they nurture strength
and kindness
guardians of my faith

2023 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.

wandering walk

On By Amrita Skye BlaineIn Awakening, awe, Daily reminders, dogs, gratitude, grief, heart, Love, memoir, Musings, nature, Poetry2 Comments

wandering walk

autumn afternoon, sunlight
playing through trees
my dog and I head out
her long legs dance
down the street
I leave behind headlines
the anguish that bears
down on my shoulders
this is a beauty search

my breath catches
desert bush sage
five feet tall, wide, deep
deep violet spikes
hundreds of them
white blooms peeking out
not there yesterday
I reach to touch
yes, velvety soft
and I soften, too

Jazz’s soft whine
begs me to move on—
her time for a sniff walk
I watch her nose query
who has been here before?
I feel the scent molecules
pour up her nose
how she reads, then interprets
some bushes require
lengthy attention
top, underneath, deep inside

envy makes me smile
oh, to shed weighty concerns
and live in her dog paws
if only one day

2023 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.