We don’t even have
to try to let these sleeping
dogs lie – they just do,
snoozing away on this gray
winter day, dreaming of sun.
JDG
Haiku Moment
Vultures sitting in
golden tipped trees – a study
in life’s stark contrasts.
JDG
The Findings
The many selves that make up
the conglomerate called me
decided to call in an outside observer
to help us see more clearly,
to sort things out, to gain an understanding.
After a time the findings came
down to this: observation is necessary,
this is an inside job,
and implementation is up to us.
JDG
The Softest of Light
Not only a full moon, but a double
one – one in its
proper place
above
and
one
cradled
by the pond
below – heaven
come to earth in the softest of full light.
JDG
Always Remember
Siblings will squabble.
Proximity’s artifact.
Archaic habits.
Explicit reminders of
Interwoven lives
And implicit reminders
Of interconnected hearts.
Light And Shadow
Does it still count if
the groundhog sees his shadow
by the moon’s full light?
JDG
With A Little Help From The Rain
Even in the rain the birds came. They saw
no need to wait
for sun when
a spread
of
seed
was placed
before them.
They knew full well
rain would keep their squirrelly rivals at bay.
JDG
Small Comforts
A good book, a gray Sunday afternoon –
so comforting
after a
hectic
week.
My
heart gives
thanks for the
largeness of such
small things and the welcome peace they can bring.
JDG
A Guest Post By Hanna Lange: No Last Time
There’s never going to be a last time.
There is no cure.
There is only the finite space
Of not-so-bad
Of kind of okay
The discrete moments of joy
And they’re so hard to remember
Especially when the sadness
Is so overwhelming,
When the melancholy floats to the surface
Like poisonous cream.
When I’m already so tired,
And the reality is that the best
I can hope for is respite
Rather than true relief.
It’s like a terminal illness
That never terminates
Without palliative care
Or hospice
And, so often, without
Real understanding,
Just empty platitudes.
-By Hanna Lea Lange
( This poem was written 4 days before the previous post, “Remember to Bend”. My daughter Hanna had called me and in the course of our conversation, she said, “There’s never going to be a last time.” It struck me as an opening line to a poem, and since she is a poet, I suggested that she begin a poem with those words which she did and the above poem was the result.
Four days later, after seeking and receiving the medical help she needed, her inner state had changed profoundly and she wrote, “Remember to Bend” after taking a yoga class as part of her treatment. I am sharing it here because I think it is one of the most honest and clear descriptions of depression that I have ever read and we hope it might help others who suffer from depression not to feel so alone. )
Remember to Bend (A Guest Post by Hanna Lange)
“Breathe deeply,” she says, “and pay attention to the breath.”
In through my nose, and then one long exhale,
At first I struggle to clear my mind,
To be entirely present to my breath,
Not focused on anything but the present moment.
I feel the simple rhythm,
In and out, in and out.
My body moves in response to her words,
Stretching, reaching, seeking
Spine straight, arms up and over
And as I move, everything else slips away.
Knees toward chest, hips rotating,
Long neglected muscles are finally honored
Like veterans of a distant war.
I feel the tension letting go,
Drifting away in this quiet space,
Where there is only soft music,
Gentle instruction,
And the steady rhythm of my own breath.
We move in quiet harmony,
Me and this stranger,
And I rediscover how to let go,
How to be here now,
How to be mindful.
I feel myself relax,
The relief like the exhale after a breath
Held tight for far too long.
When the music and the lesson stop
I feel reborn, alive again,
Awake after a long, fitful sleep.
I realize that the most important thing
Is remembering how to bend in the now
And to focus on the simple things,
Like breath, and sound, and stretch.
– By Hanna Lea Lange
