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Poem
The late afternoon sun filters through spruce and hemlock
as I sit here with my juice and my jacket on.
I was ready to say goodbye to this so long so.
As beautiful as this leafy world is, it is not serving me.

I know I am a child.  I know I am not my age.
I cannot reason the way that would help me function best
and make the appropriate decisions.
Knowing that doesn’t make it any easier.  I live with this.

Choosing another city wasn’t easy.
It’s ripped me apart, exposed my harsh vulnerability
which just makes me want to run and hide.
What if?  and that?  I don’t have what I used to have
which was also the protection of a Family.  A Place.  People.  A Life.

It is my task now to create a new one from a fabric so thin,
not sure I know how to weave anymore.
Serves me not to think about the past and all I did then.
All that exists is putting one painful foot in front of the other.

Will I have enough to eat?  A clean pretty place to sleep?
Is my mind so confused that I cannot put up a lamp to read?
Can I wash a tub that isn’t yet mine?  Will my mark stay on it?
Do I contain enough of an imprint any longer that it will stick?
Become mine?

As a woman, this is what I’ve done is leave my mark
on things, people, places.
My territory.  My boys.  My bathroom.  My car.
I need to fashion some way out of air to make this mine now.

Trying to remember...........don’t rush.
How can a calligrapher create a beautiful character without time and a brush?
Breathe.  Water.  Sit.  Affirmations.
Do some and then begin again. 

I remember this from a past life.
Just do the task in front of you which will lead to the next one.
Small parts, that’s what I Can do, is small things.
Trust.  Believe.  Have faith.

I shall weave something glistening
out of nothing much to speak of.
Or better yet, get of the way and let it become what it shall.
This is a puzzlement, a new city, a new life.
But, I will be with it.  I will be present as this new life shows me all there is to see.
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