Downpour or On the Edge of Translation

It rains down

fills my soul

from head to toes

sometimes a heavy downpour

or thunderstorm

Its words with mine

stir my inner beingness

mixing in gut, heart, mind

until clouds of emotions

swirl and dance in partnership

It all bubbles up

threatens to burst my seams

I try to capture

thoughts and contemplations

in language I know

And the words

explode out of me

fall from pen

or onto computer keyboard

faster than I can write

At times

I’m only on the edge

of a translation

I can’t quite grasp

the correct words

Then suddenly

it all ceases

the downpour stops

words cut off

in midsentence or thought

Wait, wait!

I didn’t get it all!

I still haven’t come up with a description of how/what the inflow is really like. Sometimes there are real words I understand, and other times it’s a kind of feeling of what is being channeled; emotion, but not emotion. --SW

Flash Flood

The gates open

words gush down

consuming me

tossing me along a stream

of water, stones, and sand

Words fill my mind

at an alarming rate

mix with emotions

bubbling from

my own inner well

I snatch and grab

try to anchor myself

on the words

try to form them

into cohesive thoughts

sentences and paragraphs

There’s initial success

as the page is filled

with interesting introspection

but the flow too turbulent

I’m soon overpowered

the focus becomes

a jumble of tossed stoned

and I lose the thread

of logic

I’m drowning

unable to control

the flow, the writing

then the torrent rushes on

through me, past me

leaving me exhausted

lying in mud

among the scattered stones.

A Calm Moment

In silence

a subtle move

breath becomes

nothing more than

another movement

In … out …

expand … contract …

the body reacts

the body responds

life flows through

every vein

in … out …

over and over

Heart and mind

follow the breath

in … out …

until it becomes

seamless.

Considering an Overcast Day

Shadows within

a reflection of cloudy skies above

I like this gray

It’s reminiscent

of how I feel

quiet, soft, peaceful

It’s OK that every day

doesn’t have

to be sunny

My mind relaxes

under the gray-colored cloak

pulled in, feeling safe

Maybe that’s why

I like foggy mornings

it matches my soul.

(rewritten from 2009)

A Reason for Fear?

I approach the box

with trepidation

fear of what

might be found

inside

I open the door quickly

Tiny bodies jump

flee the light

I leap back

Spiders spill out

creeping and crawling

by the hundreds it seems

I grab the mail

slam the door

and run

for the house

waiting for something

to slip out

from between envelopes

and scurry up my arm.

When I was a kid, we were playing hide ‘n’ seek and others thought it would be funny to stuff me in the mailbox, so IT wouldn’t find me. They ran off and forgot about me. IT didn’t find me, but spiders did! To this day I still have nightmares of creepy-crawlies getting on me.

In Silence My Heart Weeps

My heart couldn't recall

yesterday’s yearnings,

but the old hurts

laid claim

on unshed tears

In silence

my heart weeps

Walls built

a thousand years ago

cannot be torn down

by wishes alone

In silence

my heart weeps

I keep locked

the terror

that threatens

my soul

My heart

weeping in silence

Not such a big deal

by mind reasons

but still,

I wrap invisible cords

around my fragility

and let my emotions

keep others at bay

My heart weeping

in silence

I keep these feelings

hidden

hope no one

notices.

Alone,

I can only dream

and alone,

I dance in joy

glad I don’t have to

put on an act.

In silence

the tears dry.

(rewritten from May 2009)

Illogic Reigns

Illogic Reigns

In the din

of a crowded room

illogic reigns

pushing me

to the middle

of the arena

An isolated gladiator

unchallenged

ignored

invisible.

I slip

between the web

move

to the outskirts

Now outside

looking in

not belonging,

not fitting in.

I’m overwhelmed

with the need

to escape

and disappear

No one notices

No one cares.

I’m trying to describe what happens to me sometimes when I’m in a crowd. It is illogical. I know I belong. I know I can fit in. I just have to talk to people. But sometimes – I don’t even know what to call it, just that it is overwhelming – I just have to get out of there, to escape.

--Sasha Wolfe