the warm pool

the warm pool
note to self

awareness allows and
welcomes, supports
and underpins—we
birth right out of it
and float in the
warmth of its pool

this that isn’t an it
that can’t be seen
or heard or tasted
or touched or
even spoken about
midwifes us—
we can deny or resist
defy or dispute
no matter—bucking
what’s true will only
prompt anguish
is that what you want?

sit by the pond
feel the breeze
dust your arms
admire the swans
how they guzzle
the water of life—
hear the crack
and the thwack as
beavers raise homes
watch otters cavort
and play on their backs
they do not bemoan
or complain

unclench your mind

unclench your mind
note to self

anxiety and daymares
of what might be
oh, the tangle of mind!
it took years to see
through it—and still
it sets snares
leaps from the corner
clamps on your throat
makes up stories
and takes you down

unclench your mind
you’re scaring yourself
and there’s no need
feel the confusion
your misunderstanding
draw it close
breathe it in, soften your
heart-thrumming body
consider this—
a new thought
maybe all is well

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

heart of sunlight

heart of sunlight
note to self

stand in the brilliance
allow it
drink it in—
now leap out of your mind
let it do what minds do—
rattle on

drop behind or prior
soak in toasty warmth
your animal self
craves this—
simply be

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

the doorway

the doorway
note to self

what a weird safeguard
to ward off calamity—
when has fright for
your child unfolded
exactly as you imagined?
not once

at the back of your mind
is a doorway—when
you’ve concocted
tormenting nightmares
it’s the way out of
misshapen thinking

stride through that door
straight into the arms
of not-knowing
welcome her embrace
yes, stories will play—
be gracious, be thoughtful
and don’t touch them

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.

wake into this life

wake into this life
note to self

remaining asleep
is no longer an option
this time on our world
demands that you
wake into this life, meet
every other—daffodil
poisonous adder or your
loud, drunken neighbor—
as your equal
and use your aplomb

they, too, whether finely
expressed or not, are made
of pure lively awareness—
they, like the snake, might have
a quite different role, or like
your neighbor, be profoundly
veiled—still, they were poured
forth from lucid consciousness
just like you—imagine that!

with thanks to David Whyte for the title phrase

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

give it up

let it go
note to self

oh, girl—
remember Robert
Bly’s proverbial
five-mile-long bag
filled with the rubble
of living—annoyance
umbrage, anxiety—
give it up, all of it—
piecemeal hurts more
you know that

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

slant of mind

slant of mind
note to self

look carefully—
does that slant of
mind serve you?
it might be outdated
and need an upgrade
or maybe it can be
thanked, released, and
honorably interred

shame, self-doubt
regret—can you let
them go? notice their
presence and
set them down
slants of mind shade
the truth—
why would you want that?

thank you to Margaret Rooney for the title phrase

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