ground of certainty

ground of certainty

which first?
bad news or good?
in this garden
of embodiment—
the tiniest vole or
Andean condor
spinning planets
and vast black holes
even they birthe and die—
no certainty, not ever

“oh, if only!”
human hearts cry
“surely we can depend
on something?”
well, yes—but not
on some thing
no things are secure
they must come and go
make space for the new
so what is reliable?
the big field of knowing
the cosmos erupts
within “it”—see that

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

cupbearer

cupbearer

note from self

aren’t we all
cupbearers for
one another?
gentle word
touch on the arm
warm mug of tea
thoughtful hug
most of all
deep listening
without comment
allowing the words
to ring in the air
settle inside—
sometimes a sage
offers the cup of truth—
ignites a turn that
could save a life
if the receiving vessel
is empty and open
be that courier

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

the pull

the pull
note from self

it’s been lifelong
this pull in a
single direction
home
her true north—
yes, life distracted
or did it point?
disabled child
discordant unions
broken business
all corralled her
to attend with care
draw inside
probe underneath
and ferret the thread
of what’s true

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

whiff of fragrance

whiff of fragrance
note from self

sniff the air
do you catch
the fragrance? the
scent of not-two?
follow your nose for
a worthwhile prize—
no one and no thing
only the splendid
expanse of
pure knowing
open and aware

the bloodhound
single-pointedly
follows the whiff
nothing exists
but bouquet—be a
bloodhound for truth

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

the ruthless truth

the ruthless truth
note to self

you’ve added flavor here
“ruthless,” you know that—
truth is not warm or safe
it’s raw and piercing
you bleed crimson
stones turn to dust
and stars collapse
only consciousness remains—
in fact, that’s all there is
like magnetic north
an inexorable pull
you choose truth

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

bewilderment and tenacity

bewilderment and tenacity
note to self

this has been your path
bewilderment and tenacity—
wonder and shock at
the ways of the world
the grit to bear down
and bear with—

at the marrow, life is raw
it takes starch and love
and resolve and guts and
bundles of kindness

watch the sparrows bathe
how they dip and shake
the bevy of doves grazing
the ground for seeds
they all know what to do
relax, and you will, too

thank you to Elias Amidon for the title phrase

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.

a prayer

a prayer
note to self

don’t play hide and seek with me
instead, come face to face
split me open
pour me out
so all that’s left is
grace

2022 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—they may never turn into anything more or they might flower.

give it up

give it up
note to self

give it up—the
hankering that
claws your gut and
tugs your heart

I was taught
how life unfolds
is not enough—
was pushed to strive
for more—were you?

most of us were
trained to crave—
fancy new boots
a handsome suitor
or swanky school
city life or exotic locale
something! more!

give it up—not the
imagined gains, only
your hungry ghosts
—instead, notice the
steal of light, how it
shivers through trees
the miracle that water
rains from above, your
kindhearted friends
—all freely given

work for change
of course—encourage
discourse and peace
invite healing everywhere
yet welcome how it is
whatever it is because
here it is

2022 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—they may never turn into anything more or they might flower.