VerseDay 11-28-19

I probably should have stuck to a Thanksgiving type of theme. But maybe this could be considered in gratitude for the strength we house within ourselves. The strength that keeps us standing up for every knocking down we take. Be grateful for all you have, but don’t forget to include your amazing human-ness.

Travel safe, enjoy the company you keep, and take the moments you can to breath and be present.

 

 

Acrobat

 

Tin cup chalice

Beaten down vessel

Watched by the hungry darkness

of her heart

To fail.

 

The told-you-so on the tip of lolling tongue

Ready to fire as I teeter on the edge, unbalanced.

The narrowed gaze of predatory glee

 

Any day now,

She’ll fall

Any day now,

She’ll wear out that last leg

She’s so precariously perched on.

 

Waiting to be the first

To gloat over my fallen corpse.

 

But I don’t fall

 

And I don’t wear out

 

I bear the dents,

Scratches and cracks

And still

 

I hold true.

 

I always hold true.

 

Any day. Every day.

 

If you really knew me,

The miracle you made

 

You would know this first.

NANOWRIMO Week Four: The Final Countdown

Good morning!

For those of you who’ve been following me through the month of November, this marks the final installment of surviving NANOWRIMO (National Novel Writing Month). I’ve been flowing with a life-stages theme, and had intended to title this week “Retirement” but the thing with NANO is that only for some will the last week be about resting and reaping the rewards of a month packed with hours of dedication to your project. The others of us may find this final week to be the last desperate attempt to finish.

So this brief post is for those who are struggling through the last four to five days to make up those words, or at least push to do what they can.

I hope, more than anything, and even above the lofty goal of 50,000 words, that you are still trying. That you haven’t given up. That you have built a habit of writing so that you don’t feel complete in your day unless you’ve spent at least some time on your work.

Because, I really think that’s the whole point. This month is more about teaching us to prioritize our lives to include our work first (or at least at the top of the to-do list) and know that we CAN accomplish great things when we give it the time and love it needs, than it is about reaching the specific goal.

So often in our lives we self-limit. So often we are told it can’t be done, we can’t, the work is too great, the effort pointless. So often we are told that struggle and toil is worth little for the likely outcome. But those voices and those opinions fail to factor in that it is not just the outcome that is rewarding. That it is not all we are working for.

When we challenge ourselves, the bigger reward lies in the struggle. New ventures, hard  and thankless work, and lofty goals teach us how to plan, how to plot, how to push ahead when we simply don’t feel like it or when others around us question or scoff at the ideas before us. Challenges shine a light on how amazing and resilient we are, so that, no matter the outcome, we learn what we can do. And once we know what we are capable of, the bonds of doubt weaken and we begin to believe that if we can write a novel in a month, we can edit it, publish it, write another, and another, and another. And if we can write a book we can take a class, or teach a class. We can climb a mountain, we can travel across the world. We can do anything we set our minds to.

We can.

You can.

You’ve only got a few days left in this month and I BELIEVE THAT YOU CAN do anything you’ve set out to do. You are amazing. You are imperfectly perfect and there’s no one in the world who can finish this month the way you will.

Deep breath writer. Don’t let the home stretch scare you. Let the struggle instead be your gift and what which you are thankful to work through. You can. You will.

VerseDay 4-18-19

In observance of the Boston Marathon bombing that occurred 6 years ago Monday, I’m reposting a poem I wrote the day after.

Running on a dark highway, under speckled stars and the approaching dawn, I felt the legs of thousands of runners alongside me. The shrapnel of fear and terror, echoing thousands of miles away, gave rise to such indomitable hope and strength for so many.

runner

Runner

 

Today I ran.
Not out of fear,

not out of obligation to a scale or a time.

Today I ran to remember why we run,

to share the heavy hurt,

to find the solace that only comes in the gentle cadence of the body and road.

Today I ran for them,

For the hearts and soles that carry the world with them as they go.

just as I do.

Down pavement, and sidewalks, and dirt trails we fly

Down these paths to lighten the burdens of life.

Today I run with my countless brothers and sisters.

Those who came before me,

those paced beside me,

those still on their way.

For all of the tireless legs, the calloused feet, the hardened lungs and loosened smiles.

For those that find their peace and promise where feet connect to Earth.

I don’t have to know you, to know you.

You are me.

In the dark morning, pavement shining in just-stopped rain.
In the quick wedge of afternoon between meetings and bus drops.
In the long weekends when we find out what we really can do in the hours

and hours

of loving devotion.

With hope and in respect,

Today, I’ll carry your burden,

Until you’re back on your feet.

Today I ran.

VerseDay 12-6-18

Happy VerseDay! It’s a bit late due to extra have-to’s in my life, but sometimes a verse in the dying light of day is all the more sweet.

If you have a piece you’d like to share, feel free to send it to:

sereichert@comcast.net

or in any comment on this post or at my page.

I’d love to hear from you, so send me your poems about winter, the holidays, or whatever thoughts have invaded your mind. Cheers!

Not Myself Of Late

I am long away from from the girl I once knew.

The embodiment of all that was good and bright;

swallowed by annihilating-gray skies.

Mired by the confused need,

Where my heart flounders in the soft darkness.

I pluck it out; calm it’s fluttering and gasping.

Gently shush it’s cries for you…

I let you upend me.

I let you through the layers

And the idea of you

Embedded into my soil.

Tender but steadfast seedling.

I forgot myself.

I’ve forgotten myself.

Forgotten that you are just shadow

Borne from the reflections of my desire.

A chemical reaction, unchecked.

I was dry underbrush,

And you, just a catalytic match.

But now

I am the fire.

I am heat and devastation.

I don’t need your suggestive darkness

To know that I am bright.