A Poem On A Monday

Here's an older poem of mine, and I'm including it today because it reminds me of the feeling I had coming off of this weekend. How our life can begin new again and again. Before I include the poem, I also want to add that the kindness and love extended to me continued on into yesterday as well! My friend Tiffany called to offer me an opportunity for some part time work with her homegrown company, {made} community, where they sell jewelry and other wearables made from sustainable sources. You can find their website HERE. I'll dedicate a future post about Tiffany, but for now here's the poem:

She’s Glad She Didn’t Fix the Blinds

A woman wakes in some part

of the world, a mountain at her back,

a sun sliding through the broken

slit in her blinds, a line across her bed.

She watches, remembers a dream—

walking barefoot over cut glass coating

a street she’d never been on, she blinked

and the glass turned to light, and the street

wasn’t a street, but rolling hills.

She stirs her hand in and out

of the stream of light, then glides

out of bed. She leans

in the sliding glass door in her kitchen,

watches the sun clarify the frost

on her porch, her neighbor’s roof, her mountain.

She hesitates once unbuckling the door

to the cold, her naked feet

on the porch, skin an unexpected

welcome shiver, as if a tiger

flexed around her bones. She walks

to the edge of her lawn, the frosted grass

breaks underfoot, and she doesn’t feel

ridiculous. She senses some core

of herself, a tiny moon, places one hand

on her belly to touch its balance. 

She seals her soft eyes shut, and

when they open, her life begins.

Casey Lord