not once

not once
note from self

not once
has she deserted
the nave within
that sacred space
where quiet rules—
oh yes, distracted
got lost in the dark
took an odd path
stumbled and fell
dusted herself off
refound her lodestar
set out again—but she
never abandoned the nave

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

you shattered her cage

you shattered her cage
note from self

hands together
she bowed in
a sign of respect—
you shattered
her cage, her terrain
of misunderstanding
with precise, spare
and elegant words
reoriented her to the
big field of knowing
she cannot unsee—
ruined, she smiles

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

down on her knees

down on her knees
note from self

myriad times
catapulted into prayer
she dropped to her knees

yet praying to what?
for what?
what is not already here?

praying needs an “other”
an ailing spouse
or incurable child
the cry for country calm
prayers for rain

she asks again
what is not already here?
and is still called to pray

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

the light of pure knowing

the light of pure knowing
note from self

her heart is called
by the shoreless light
she can’t feel it
or touch it
or see it
but apprehends
it is prior to all she
can know—she
rests in aplomb
notices how light
underpins and supports—
solace in thick times and
her ground of being
she is made of this light
it pours through and
around her—
it does this for all

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

she sees the world

she sees the world
note from self

she sees the world
as it is—a
splendid shambles
a miraculous mess
that seems poised to
shed humanity over
a few hundred years

what will it look like
in half a millennium?
can kudzu re-green
the planet? will it turn
into a moonscape
like Mars?
and accepts that
she will not know

so celebrates today
and what is known
chill morning air
crow’s hoarse caw
sun-dappled leaves and
her breath in and out
—for now

carved in devotion

carved in devotion
note from self

it pours out of her—
delight in the tiny birds
brave and filled with
anthem to greet
this blemished world
they cheer and
entice her courage—
to be so small, mere
snack for hawks
and yet…
they warble bold
pipe joy
croon beauty
trill wonder until
she, too is engraved
with reverence
carved in devotion

hymn of wonder and grief

hymn of wonder and grief

a close friend
is struck by a
brain-stem
stroke—a
fir half-broken
still stretching
toward light
her daughters
have traveled to
be by her bed
it’s bad, they said
will she live?
can she write?
change is the given
I know this and yet
the echo in my chest
is a hymn of both
wonder and grief

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