altar of undoing
brought or dragged
to my altar of undoing
the labor began
sacred endeavor
discern what’s true
and not personal
the rend of confusion
truth frightened me
unwind beliefs
and the stories
that sustained them
pools of misery
tears upon tears
finally! the light
of understanding
2023 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.
fitted in
boundless heart
vast mosaic
each of us a tiny tile,
our place revealed—
feel it with your
fingertips—does it
require rasp or saw
to snug a spot,
or does it slip
right in?
be tender here—
this life,
sharp edges,
wants no less
2023 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.
the warehouse
like boxes of faded
photos or piles
of old newspapers
our bodies
are storehouses—
they hold on to fears
hurts and rejections
layer upon layer
and hide them
in recesses
residues separate
we’ve lost the links
and can no longer
parse them
but the slumbering
mass snares us
the stories have fled
but they still grip hard
a saw-toothed trap
until we invite them
are willing to greet
these old hurts
feel them down
to the bone—then
watch them dissolve
into simple sensation
and they’re gone
2023 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.
dying away
every moment
I am perishing
one breath
closer to death
the sun, the moon
even our very own
earth, sources
of sustenance
wither, fade
and ebb away
it’s the way of things
and yet
it’s hard to hold
this—the universe
itself grows, ages
and dies—
my mind, a denier,
even with evidence
doesn’t want to accept
this source of suffering
starts with belief
in past and future
instead of resting
in the cradle of now
it holds us, this now
let the puzzles go
let tension go
now breathe
2023 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.
friendliness
care for
and befriend yourself
that way
you are never alone
life is hard enough
it took me most
of a lifetime
to learn this
and I relearn it
every day
listen to your
inner yammering
a frenzied parade
of thoughts
we’re so used to
that voice rattling on
an endless commentary
fine tune your ear—
is it a kind friend
or harsh judge?
if you find the judge
smile and just say
no.
no more
only goodwill here
2023 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.
iceberg
what’s frozen
in us, an echo
of human cruelty
or inattention—
as children, we
can’t process
don’t have the skill
innocent
we stuff it away
that jagged lump
we cannot see
shades everything
blinded, we stumble
react and don’t
know why
shine light
on that bulk
oh, it has stories!
unwind and love them
give them leeway
to thaw—when
welcomed and seen
they no longer alarm
the warmth we offer
melts and releases
they re-meld with
the ocean as one
2023 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.
upheld
while it’s hard
to bear losses
be upheld by love
notice small details
frost on the roof
a prediction of rain
the blessing of
friendship
breathe it in
breathe it out
feel the support
of love’s ground
2023 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.
remade
inviting breath
and urging her
calf to stand
the mama giraffe’s
tongue strokes the
wet bundle of legs
stopping after-hours
a nurse soothes her
patient’s brow—
the elderly man
won’t last until
next shift
lugging grocery bags
kissing a hurt knee
the simple gesture
of opening a door
we are remade
by small acts of love
2023 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.
tracery
right on her heart
the delicate pattern
love traced with
indelible ink
a daily reminder
of what’s to be done
it can’t be ignored
whatever curves
life delivers
love at each turn
is the cure—like
vaccine for a virus
or serum for bites
love is the elixir
it readies the soil
for the potential
of change—it may
not feel gentle
can even be harsh
yet love is the cure
for what ails us
2023 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.
minefield
are you ready to come
out of the cave? have you
had enough of drowning?
the mind has claws,
ties your view into knots
drags you under
with the weight of stones
you know this mind
it perseverates,
steals sleep
tangles intention
revs apprehension
let it go—set it down
that gnarl will not undo—
then swim away
that’s right
use powerful strokes
minefield mind, a drag
on vigor and time
2022 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.
the heart of the matter 