Flutters

fluttering

My heart fluttered for a moment
When I thought of him
Smiling,
Laughing,
Talking.
When I remembered
the briefest of moments in which
Connection sizzled.

It made me smile.
A fluttering heart
And a fluttering tummy
Signs that I should trust my gut
On this one.

Maybe the Universe will
Conspire in my behalf.
It’s done it before.
I trust it will do it again.

So after I smile
After the brief moment of
Flutters
I surrender
To the Universe
And release all attachment
To outcome.

The universe can steer my course.
Flutters notwithstanding.
Just a knowing that what happens
Is what is supposed to happen.
How do we know?
Because it did……

By Deborah E. Dayen

Image from Hawkins Bazaar, via Google Images

Observation and Evolution

evolution (1)

In present moments
It all passes by
Without attachment
Like a story
A fable
With some lesson
Obscure
or
Blatant.

Sitting alone
Observing
What went before
What is right now
Wondering, idly
What will come.

Everything that happened
In our lives
Brings us to where we are.
Which will bring us
To where we will be.

Is the lesson learned?
Has the soul evolved?
Does the lesson need repeating
In order to be learned,
In order to be released
to the next level?

Lay down the defenses
Open the heart
Open the eyes
Open the ears
Let go of attachment to outcome
Breathe.
Allow life.
Allow love.

Always, love.

By Deborah E. Dayen

Image from Learning School via Google Images

Golden Idol

golden idol

Mindfuck
is so hard to deal with.
Senseless stories
Told in earnest
To no reasonable end
For no reasonable purpose
Except to mindfuck.

Hanging onto the past
When it’s dead and gone.
Over….
I’m not your wife
Anymore.

Unable to give up control
Even for your son.
It’s incomprehensible to me.

Bend down on the floor.
Cry, let the tears fill the room.
Reach for the golden cow
That led you into ruin.
Hold it close,
Imagine it is all you lost.
Blame the idol
Or me
Or God
For it all.

Soaked with your own salty tears
On the floor of your prison
Alone
No one there but you
And your cold golden idol.

Does it bring you comfort?

 

By Deborah E. Dayen

Image from Propmonicon, via Google Images.

Sculptor Christian Hartmann

Word Shards

shatter

My words are frail
Breaking beneath the weight of themselves.
They cannot hold together,
Though they stick in my throat.

Like a snowball in an avalanche
The heap of them grows with each moment.
Until the sheer mass of them,
Held silent in captivity,
Induces them to crack, and break,
And shatter.
Word shards scatter
Into thousands of unattached, random thoughts.

Somewhere underneath
The pile of word rubble
Lies love.
Just love.
Always, and all ways.

Leaving

leaving

Asking for strength
To get through the next days.
Friends buoy me,
Mark my channel.
Keep me centered
Grounded,
In the flow.

Looking back at my life
Here
for so many years.
Easy to have regrets
But I balk at regrets.
Lessons, not regrets.
Things I needed to learn
To grow my soul.

In the end,
I have loved,
much more than
I have hated.
I have laughed
More than I’ve cried.
Joy has filled
What pain tried to take away.

So young when I came here
Just legal age.
I leave 44 years later
The largest part of my life behind me.
At least, of this life.
Time for change,
For the next great adventure.

Love and light.

By Deborah E. Dayen

Picture from Google Images

The Days Before The North Wind

It’s a late summer’s eve.
The only sounds
A child’s laughter,
crickets singing,
Leaves rustling on the tiniest breeze.

Summer meal on the table,
BBQ, corn on the cob
Fresh tomatoes and cucumbers.
Must be August.

Farm stands full
of things just picked today.
Melons and peppers,
Apples and peaches.
Pumpkins soon dot the ground.
The harvest underway.

The days grow shorter.
The laughter retreats inside the cozy warm house.
The leaves crunch underfoot,
And fires ignite in back yards pits to ward off the chill.

The leaves soon will turn
To red and gold and orange.
In a breeze it will rain leaves.
In a still sky, they will crunch underfoot,
come into the house attached to feet.

Think of me as the leaves fall.
I will miss the autumn,
The days of clear cool air
Before the north wind blows.

But when it blows, hard and steady,
Come see me then, my friend
In a land of endless summer.

 

Awareness

 

third eye

Aware
That I can love
That the energy which powers the sun
Also powers my heart.
Powers my words to express.

Powers my body
To be one with my heart
That the physical manifestation
Of love
Is powered just as my heart is.

By the one thing.

True and honest.
I never lied,
(I could not)
With my words,
With my thoughts,
With my body.

The electrifying touch
Comes from the same place
As the soft words.
The connection that can’t be broken.

The face will come into focus
The face that will know what I know
And feel what I feel.
Another connection;
Stronger,
Sweeter,
Still unbreakable,
Is in the making.

Bliss.

In the Beginning, and In the End

I write, that’s what I do, it’s how I work things out.  So when I am in a relationship I write about it.  I wrote this first poem in the beginning, about S.  But the end, so far, does not seem poetic to me.  It has not inspired me to write poetry to get through it.  I am through it and happy about it, but it doesn’t seem to deserve poetry to me. It was an ugly betrayal.  It shook me to the very core to find out who he really was.

Still, I thought, I would publish these two poems.  The second is not about the ending but was about another moment in the relationship when I thought it was over.   Just a beginning and an ending.

I Would Be Happier

For the first time in many many years
Decades maybe.
Decades definitely.
I think,
I would be happier if he were here.

That scares me.
It scares him.
But it’s true, all the same.
Scared or not.
I would be happier if he were here.

In the morning having my coffee.
I sit outside
I listen as the world wakes up.
I am happy.
I feel the connection to all the earth.
I close my eyes.
I breathe in the scent of the early morning.
I contemplate.
I clear my mind.
I am happy.

Yet,
I would be happier if he were here.

I go through my day.
He calls.
I am happy.
That he called
That I am having a good, easy day.
That he is thinking of me.
Because I cannot stop thinking of him.
We talk, we both flirt a little.
I am happy.

Yet,
I would be happier if he were here.

I get home.
I clean up my kitchen.
I idly check my phone
To see if I missed a message.
I did not.
I go outside.
I sip a glass of wine.
A cool breeze blows through my hair.
I am happy.
My life is wonderful.
Yet,
I would be happier if he were here.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

And then, an ending.  Not THE ending, just an ending. In hindsight, I wish I had let it be the ending. Would have saved me a lot of heartache.  But the result is the same….Surrender.

Surrender

It’s fascinating, really,
how happiness can come
and go,
so silently, so fleetingly.
One minute you can be happy, sure of your life
and the next minute
some new piece of truth comes your way
and completely undoes the happiness you were so sure of
only seconds before..

It feels obscene, it feels like a violation.
Of my person. Of my psyche.

I asked the question.
I hoped beyond hope
for a different outcome.
Knowing I might not get it,
hoping I would.

I did not.

Now, I can’t change the answer.
I can’t change our hearts.
I can’t go back
to the moment before I knew the answer.
The moment, the time, the place
where I could bury it
and ignore what I knew.
What the voices kept repeating.

The question kept rearing it’s head.
“What about this???” the voices called.
Are you happy?? Despite this??
Enough times they called to me as I slept
As I woke
As I showered
As I dressed
As I drove
As I made love.

They wouldn’t be ignored.

I surrendered.
I asked the dreaded question.
I got the dreaded answer.

Now…my task is to accept.
To surrender yet again, to what is.
And to place my hope outward
Forward.
To a time and place as yet unknown
Where I can dream the dream again
And laugh in it’s fulfillment.

Right now
in this time and this space
I sit with my sadness.
Knowing that it will pass.
That all things are possible.